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AUTHOR: 


BRETT,  A.  C.  A. 


TITLE: 


I 


CHARLES  II  AND  HIS 
COURT 

PLACE: 

NEW  YORK;  LONDON 

DA  TE : 

1910 


14 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 
PRESERVATION  DEPARTMENT 

BIBLIOGRAPHIC  MICROFORM  TARGET 


Original  Material  as  Filmed  -  Existing  Bibliographic  Record 


942.066 
B756 


Brett,   A  C  A 

Charles  II  and  his  court   •.. 
nam,   1910. 

xiv,   323  p.     porta. 


New  York,   Put- 


"List  of  works  consulted":  p.   c 2893-293. 


Master  Negative  # 


_1.  Charles  II,  king  of  Great  Britain,   1630- 
1685.  _2.  Gt.  Brit.   -  Court  and  courtiers. 

Restrictions  on  Use: 

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CHARLES  II  AND  HIS  COURT 


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CHARLES    II 

FROM    THE    HAINTIN(;    BY  JOHN    GREENHILI.    IN    THR    NATIONAI.    .•OKTKAIT   C.ALLERY 


CHARLES    II   AND 
HIS   COURT 


BY 


A.  C.  A.  BRETT 


;1*iti||(«r 


WITH  SEVENTEEN   ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW   YORK:     G.    P.    PUTNAM'S   SONS 
LONDON:   METHUEN    &    CO.    LTD. 

1910 


'  J 


'  ] 


PREFACE 

I  WISH  to  thank  heartily  and  sincerely 
following  persons  : — In  the  compilation  of 
Wife;  the  Rev.  F.  A.  Hibbert,  M.A.,  : 
Denstone  College ;  Messrs.  A.  C.  Wentw 
Nicholas,  A.  H.  Montagu,  and  G.  A.  1 
reading  through  the  MS.,  etc.,  and  makii 
suggestions :  my  Mother,  and  Professor  an< 
Bruce,  of  Cardiff. 


Alton,  Staffordshire, 
14  September,  1910. 


for  help,  the 
the  text :  my 
rieadmaster  of 
Drth  Lewis,  O. 
\  Davies ;  for 
ig  many  useful 
i  Mrs.  Herbert 

C.  B. 


^ 


'S 


CONTENTS 


PREFACE 


PAGB 

vii 


CHAPTER   I 
EARLY  DAYS,   1630--49 

Birth  and  christening  of  Charles— Stories  of  his  childhood- 
Lord  Newcastle  and  Brian  Duppa,  his  tutors —Succeeded 
by  Lord  Hertford,  he  by  Lord  Berkshire— The  Civil  War — 
Charles  and  James  at  Edgehill— The  Prince  of  Wales  at 
Reading  —  Oxford  — Cropredy  Bridge — Newt  ury — Oxford 
again— He  is  made  General  of  the  Western  /association— 
Travels  by  Devizes  and  Bath  to  Bristol— Mrs.  Wyndham— 
The  Prince  in  Devonshire  and  Cornwall — (joes  to  the 
Scilly  Isles— Debates  as  to  Charles'  ultimate  destination- 
Lady  Fanshawe's  Account  of  the  Scilly  Isles  jjid  of  Jersey 
—The  Prince  in  Jersey— His  household  and  oxupations— 
He  goes  to  France— His  cool  reception— His  personal 
appearance— Mile,  de  Montpensier — Escape  of  James  of 
York  from  England— Attempted  sea  fight  between  the 
Prince  and  Lord  Warwick's  fleet— Paris  in  tie  Fronde- 
Poverty  of  Henrietta  Maria— Gilles  de  Retz— Prince 
Charles  stays  with  the  Prince  of  Orange— Murder  of  King 
Charles— Effect  upon  the  Cavaliers  and  upon  Charles  II.    . 


CHAPTER   II 

1649-51 

Charies  proclaimed  in  Scotland— Montrose— Soph 
Palatine— Embassy  to  Spain— Death  of  Dori 
de  Montpensier — Her  opinion  of  Charles  a 
Charles  goes  to  Jersey— Privations  of  the  Cour 
France— The  King  at  Ghent— The  "  Pomm 
Breda — Treaty  of  Breda — Death  of  Montrose — 
to  Scotland — His  treatment— Secret  interview 
and  Dean  King— Battle  of  Dunbar— Charles'  g< 
ment  in  Scotland — The  King  marches  to  Engla 
at  Worcester— Battle  of  Worcester  and  defeat 
— Traditions  of  his  escape    .... 

ix 


ia,  Princess 
5laus — Mile, 
nd  James — 
: — Return  to 
I  d'Or  "—At 
Charles  goes 
of  the  King 
)od  manage- 
nd — Arrives 
of  the  King 


29 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


CHAPTER   III 
"after  WORCESTER  FiGHT " 

Sidbury  Gate — St.  Martin's  Gate — Barboume  Bridge— Kinver 
Edge — Whiteladies—Hobbal  Grange — A  night  walk — At 
Mr.  Woolfe's— Back  at  Boscobel— Royal  Oak— Mr.  Whit- 
greave  of  Moseley  and  Mr.  Huddleston — At  Bentley  with 
Colonel  Lane — The  ride  to  Bristol — The  blacksmith  be- 
fooled—Charles and  the  Meat- Jack — The  King  discovered 
at  Bristol — He  goes  to  Colonel  Wyndham's  at  Trent — Jane 
Lane  —  Charmouth  —  Bridport  —  Broad  Windsor  —  Heale 
House,  SaHsbury — The  ride  to  Brighton — The  "  George  " 
at  Brighton — Mine  host — The  skipper — Charles  lands  at 
Fecamp — Rouen — Paris 


PAGE 


50 


CONTENTS 


XI 


CHAPTER  VI 

LONDON 


PAGE 


London  under  Charles  II — Streets,  taverns,  shoppi  ig,  travelling, 
holidays,  amusements — Dress  and  fashiois — Games — 
Furniture I94 


CHAPTER  VII 

LA  HAUTE  POLITIQUE 

Fall  of  Clarendon — Temple  and  the  Triple  Allian(  e — Ambassa- 
dors— Henrietta,  Duchess  of  Orleans — Treatir  of  Dover — 
Marriage  of  William  of  Orange  and  Mary  of  York — Begin- 
nings of  Popish  Plot — Marvell's  "King's  Speech"       .        .    203 


t 


CHAPTER   IV 
1651-60— THE  SECOND   EXILE 

Charles  arrives  at  Paris  ;  his  treatment  there — Mile,  de  Mont- 
pensier — Duchesse  de  Chastillon — Privations  of  English 
Court  in  Paris — Factions  and  quarrels — Charles  goes  to 
Germany — Cromwell's  spies — The  King  at  Coin — Attempted 
conversion  of  Duke  of  Gloucester — The  ".Sealed  Knot" — 
Charles  and  Spain — He  fights  at  Dunkirk — Goes  to  Bruges 
— Death  of  Cromwell — The  King  goes  to  Spain — Charles 
and  his  sister — Declaration  of  Breda  and  proclamation  of 
Charles  in  England — He  leaves  Holland,  and  lands  at  Dover 
— Journey  to  London 109 


CHAPTER  V 


THE  RESTORATION— AND  AFTER 


The  King's  personal  appearance  and  qualities — His  accomplish- 
ments and  learning — Charles  as  author — His  dogs — New- 
castle's advice  to  the  restored  King — Monk — Charles  at  the 
Council-table— The  Regicides'  fate— Act  of  Indemnity— The 
Convention  Parliament — The  Cavalier  Parliament  and 
religion — The  Army — Finance — Charles  and  his  divines — 
Growth  of  scientific  spirit — Charles  as  scientist — Touching 
for  the  King's  Evil— Superstitions — The  King's  Marriage — 
Katherine  of  Braganqa — Court  amusements — Tunbridge 
Wells—"  Flatfoot,  the  Gudgeon-taker  "—Second  Dutch  War 
—The  Plague— The  Fire 14 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  POPISH   PLOT 

Titus  Gates — Shaftesbury,  the  Whigs,  and  the  (}reen  Ribbon 
Club — Pope-burnings — The  question  of  the  succession — 
Fall  of  Danby — Charles  and  the  plot — Temple's  Privy 
Council — "King  Monmouth" — Illness  of  Charles — Peti- 
tioners and  Abhorrers — King  at  Oxford — Eissolution  of 
Parliament,  fall  of  Shaftesbury,  and  Whig  plots — Charles 
absolute — Bruce's  account  of  the  King's  last  illness  and 
death 221 


CHAPTER   IX 
THE  COURT 

A  week  in  a  courtier's  life— The  great  men  at  Court— James, 
Duke  of  York— Henry,  Duke  of  Gloucester- -The  Duke  of 
Buckingham— The  Duke  of  Lauderdale— The  Earl  of 
Rochester  and  Sir  Charles  Sedley— Earl  of  I  orset— "  Mob 
of  Gentlemen" — Prince  Rupert — Duke  anc  Duchess  of 
Newcastle— Two  Duchesses  of  York— Barbara  Palmer- 
Anne  Fitzroy — Duchess  Mazarin — Louise  d«i  Keroiialle — 
Nell  Gwyn— Character  of  Charles  1 1 252 


LIST  OF  WORKS  CONSULTED 


APPENDIX 


INDEX 


.      289 
.      295 

•     305 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


Charles  II 


Frontispiece 


}■;, 


iM 


From  the  Painting  by  John  Greenhill  in  the  National  Portrait 
Gallery 

__  , ,  RACING  PAGE 

Henrietta  Maria  of  France,  Queen  of  England         .       3 

From  the  Painting  by  Vandyck  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery 

(Photo,  Mansell) 


Charles  I 

After  the  Painting  by  Vandyck  at  Windsor 

James  Graham,  Marquis  of  Montrose       .... 

After  the  Painting  by  Houbraken 

Charles  II,  about  1651 

From  an  Engraving  by  Faithorne,  formerly  in  the  possession 
of  F.  Roe,  Esq. 


27 


30 


65 


Prince  William  II  of  Orange  and  his  Bride,  Princess 
Marv  Henrietta  Stuart        .       .       .  .       .116 

From  the  Painting  by  Vandyck  at  Amsterdam 

Charles  II 146 

From  the  Painting  by  Mary  Beale  in  the  Natioial  Portrait 
Gallery 

John  Dryden 151 

From  the  Painting  by  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller  in  ihe  National 
Portrait  Gallery 

Barbara  Villiers,  Countess  of  Castlemaine  .       .    177 

From  the  Painting  by  Lely  at  Althorp.    (Photo,  Hanfstacngl) 


•! 


'|i|j 


XIV 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


I 


Edward  Hyde,  Earl  of  Clarendon  . 

After  the  Picture  by  Sir  Peter  Lely 

Henrietta,  Duchess  of  Orleans  .... 

From  a  Painting  at  Hardwick  Hall.  (Photo,  Hanfstaengl) 


PACING  PAGE 
.       202 


208 


James  II 226 

From  the  Painting  by  Kneller  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery 


Charles  II 


251 


From   the   Miniature   by   Samuel   Cooper    in  the  Wallace 
Collection.    (Photo,  Hanfstaengl) 


r 


The  Duke  of  Gloucester 

From  a  Miniature  by  Samuel  Cooper 

King  Charles  II 

From  a  Miniature  by  Samuel  Cooper 


.     261 


George  Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham    .       .       .       . 

From  the  Painting  by  Sir  Peter  Lely  in  the  National  Portrait 
Gallery 


262 


John  Wilmot,  Earl  of  Rochester 269 

From  the  Painting   by  William  Wissing  in  the   National 
Portrait  Gallery 


CHARLES  II  AND  HIS 

COURT 


CHAPTER  I 
EARLY    DAYS,  1630-49 

**  And  that  his  birth  should  be  more  singular. 
At  noon  of  day  was  seen  a  silver  star." 

Herrick,  Pastoral  Upon  the  Birtk  of  Prince  Charles. 

Birth  and  christening  of  Charles — Stories  of  his  childhood — Lord 
Newcastle  and  Brian  Duppa,  his  tutors-— Succeeded  by  Lord  Hertford, 
he  Ijy  Lord  Berkshire— The  Civil  War— Charles  and  James  at  Edgehill 
—The  Prince  of  Wales  at  Reading— Oxford — Cropiedy  Bridge— 
Newbury— Oxford  again— He  is  made  General  of  the  Western  Associa- 
tion—Travels by  Devizes  and  Bath  to  Bristol— Mrs.  Wyrndham— The 
Priiice  in  Devonshire  and  Cornwall— Goes  to  the  Scilly  ]  sles— Debates 
as  to  Charles'  ultimate  destination — Lady  Fanshawe  s  Account  of 
the  Scilly  Isles  and  of  Jersey— The  Prince  in  Jersey— His  household 
and  occupations — He  goes  to  France — His  cool  reception— His  per- 
sonal appearance— Mile,  de  Montpensier— Escape  of  James  of  York 
from  England— Attempted  sea  fight  between  the  Prince  and  Lord 
Warwick's  fleet— Paris  in  the  Fronde — Poverty  of  Henrietta  Maria— 
Gilles  de  Retz — Prince  Charles  stays  with  the  Prince  of  Orange — 
Murder  of  King  Charles — Effect  upon  the  Cavaliirs  and  upon 
Charles  II. 

HE  husband  of  my  son's  nurse  goin^r  to  France 
about  some  business  of  his  wife,  I  write  you  this 
letter  by  him,  believing  that  you  will  be  very 
glad  to  ask  him  news  of  my  son,  of  whom,  I  think,  you 
have  seen  the  portrait  that  I  sent  the  queen,  my  mother. 
He  is  so  ugly  that  I  am  ashamed  of  him  ;  but  his  size  and 
features  supply  the  want  of  beauty.     I  wish  you  could  see 

B 


S  I 


IH 


2  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

the  gentleman,  for  he  has  no  ordinary  mien  ;  he  is  so 
serious  in  all  that  he  does  that  I  cannot  help  deeming 
him  far  wiser  than  myself.  ...  He  is  so  fat  that  he  is  taken 
for  a  year  old,  and  he  is  only  four  months.  His  teeth  are 
already  beginning  to  come.  I  will  send  you  his  portrait 
as  soon  as  he  is  a  little  fairer,  for  at  present  he  is  so  dark 
that  I  am  ashamed  of  him."  * 

This  baby  was  Charles,  Prince  of  Wales,  born  29  May, 
1630 ;  his  mother  is  describing  him  in  a  letter  to  her  old 
governess,  Mme.  de  Motteville.  His  birth  was  greeted  by 
innumerable  poems,  most  of  them  containing  some  allusion 
to  the  star  which  had  been  visible  as  Charles  I  rode  to 
St.  Paul's  to  give  thanks  for  the  Queen's  delivery.^  From 
this  omen  "  most  men  presaged  that  that  prince  should  be 
of  high  undertakings  and  of  no  common  glory  among 
kings."  If  he  had  spoken  of  this  later  in  life,  Charles  II 
might  well  have  anticipated  the  words  of  Pope's  Achilles, 
"  Portents  and  prodigies  are  lost  on  me  ! "  If,  however, 
the  star  was,  as  Lilly  the  astrologer  declared,  the  planet 
Venus,  its  appearance  was  certainly  appropriate  enough. 

"  The  star-led  birth  of  Charles  the  Prince,"  so  auspicious 
for  European  politics,  was  the  prelude  to  one  of  the  most 
troubled  and  stormy  youths  ever  spent  by  a  royal  child. 
Charles'  earliest  years,  however,  were  comparatively  happy 
and  normal.  At  his  birth  he  was  declared  Prince  of  Wales 
and  Earl  of  Chester  ;  and  he  received  the  Garter  at  Windsor 
when  he  was  eight.  His  christening  was  a  sufficiently 
splendid  ceremony,  even  though  certain  hopes  of  prefer- 
ment appear  to  have  been  disappointed.  He  was  baptized 
on  Sunday  "  about  four  in  the  afternoon,  at  St.  James',  in 
the  King's  little  chapel  (not  in  the  Queen's),  by  my  Lord 
of  London,^  Dean  of  the  Chapel,  assisted  by  the  Bishop  of 

»  Strickland,  viij.  60  ;  Clayton,  i.  ;  and  Airy,  pp.  4,  5. 

*  Cf.  Cowley's  Ode  on  His  Majest/s  Restauration  and  Return^  st.  i.  ; 
Dryden,  A5tr(Ea  Redux,  11.  288  sqq,  ;  and  Annus  Mirabilis,  St.  18 ;  and 
Waller's  poem  on  St.  James'  Park,  etc. 

»  Laud. 


1 


1' 


m 


I 


^^ 


HENRIETTA   MARIA  OF   FRANCE,   QUEEN   OF   ENCILAND 

FROM    THK    I'AINTING    BY    \  ANDYCK    IN    THE    NATIONAL    HOKTRAIT    GALLERY 


CHRISTENING  j 

Norwich,  almoner.  The  gossips  were  the  French  King, 
the  Palsgrave,  and  the  Queen-Mother  of  France;  the 
deputies,  the  Duke  of  Lennox,  Marquis  Hanailton,  and 
the  Duchess  of  Richmond,  which  last  was  exceedingly 
bountiful.  The  ordnance  and  chambers  of  the  Tower  were 
discharged,  the  bells  did  ring,  and  at  night  were  in  the 
streets  plenty  of  flaming  bonfires.  The  Duchess  was  sent 
for  by  3  lords,  divers  knights  and  gentlemim,  6  footmen, 
and  a  coach  with  6  horses  plumed  (all  the  Queen's),  and 
alighted  not  without  the  gate,  but  with  n  the  court 
Her  retinue  were  6  women,  and  gentlemen  I  know  not 
how  many.  But  all,  of  both  sexes,  were  <:lad  in  white 
satin,  garnished  with  crimson,  and  crimson  f  ilk  stockings. 
I  hear  not  of  any  presents  from  the  gosi  ips ;  but  the 
Duchesse  for  her  own  particular,  presented  to  the  Queen 
for  the  Prince,  a  jewel  estimated  at  seven  or  8ooO;f  ;  to  the 
Welch*  nurse  a  chain  of  rubies  estimated  at  200 ;f  ;  to  the 
midwife  and  dry  nurse,  store  of  massy  pLite ;  to  the  6 
rockers,  each  a  fair  cup,  a  salt,  and  a  dozen  of  spoons. 
All  the  Lords  also  gave  plate  to  the  nurse.  Besides,  the 
Duchess  gave  to  every  knight  and  gentleman  of  the 
Queen's  who  came  for  her,  and  brought  hei*  back  to  her 
house  in  the  Strand,  50  pieces  ;  to  the  coachman  20,  and 
to  every  of  the  6  footmen,  10  pieces.  There  were  neither 
lords  nor  knights  made  that  I  hear  of,  as  tliere  was  said 
there  would  be."  ^ 

In  spite  of  the  obvious  reasons  for  such  a  description, 
we  need  not  distrust  Eglesfield's  glowing  account  of 
Charles'  good  temper  and  genius  as  a  child,  since  it  is  so 
well  confirmed  by  the  Prince's  later  life.  Certain  incidents 
of  his  childhood  are  all  that  remain  to  us,  and  not  un^ 
naturally,  they  are  all  interesting.  "When  he  was  but 
very  young,  he  had  a  very  strange   and   unaccountable 

*  Qy.  Melch  =  milch  ?  Or  more  probably  Welsh,  as  the  usual  custom 
was  for  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  have  a  Welsh  nurse. 

*  Mr.  Sam.^  Meddus  to  Mr.  Jos.  Meade,  2  July,  630;  ap.  Peck, 
Desiderata  Curiosa^  ed.  1736  ;  ij.  36,  and  quoted  in  Captain  Clayton's  Personal 
History  of  Charles  11^  ed.  1859,  vol.  i.  p.  41. 


il 

11 


4  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

fondness  to  a  wooden  billet,  without  which  in  his  arms  he 
would  never  go  abroad  or  lie  down  in  his  bed  ;  from  which 
the  more  observing  sort  of  people  gathered  that  when  he 
came  to  years  of  maturity  either  oppressors  or  blockheads 
would  be  his  greatest  favourites;  or  else  that  when  he 
came  to  reign  he  would  either  be  like  Jupiter's  log  for 
everybody  to  deride  and  condemn  ;  or  that  he  would  rather 
choose  to  command  his  people  with  a  club  than  rule  them 
by  the  sword."  Though  afterwards  so  fine  an  athlete, 
Charles  as  a  little  child  was  forced  to  wear  iron  supports 
for  his  legs,  which  at  length  so  oppressed  his  spirits,  that 
an  old  rocker  took  it  upon  herself  to  remove  and  hide  the 
irons,  telling  the  Countess  of  Dorset,  the  head  nurse,  that 
she  would  take  the  responsibility  for  the  action.  The 
King  was  at  first  angry,  but  on  being  reminded  that  Lady 
Cary  had  done  the  same  with  him  in  his  childhood,  with 
good  results,  allowed  the  Prince  to  leave  the  irons  off.  In 
spite  of  this  early  weakness,  and  a  broken  arm,  fever,  and 
jaundice,  in  his  tenth  year,  Charles  grew  gradually  stronger, 
and  at  ten  "he  would  ride  leaping  horses,  and  such  as 
would  overthrow  others  and  manage  them  with  the  greatest 
skill  and  dexterity,  to  the  admiration  of  all  that  beheld 
him."  1 

His  advance  in  health  and  strength  he  owed  to  the 
Earl  of  Newcastle,  who,  together  with  Brian  Duppa,^  was 
appointed  his  tutor  in  April,  1637.  These  two  early 
guides,  unlike  their  successors,  Hertford  and  Berkshire, 
were,  perhaps,  the  best  that  could  have  been  chosen  for 
the  young  Prince.  Clarendon  says  of  Newcastle  that  he 
was  "  a  very  fine  gentleman,  active  and  full  of  courage,  and 
most  accomplished  in  those  qualities  of  horsemanship, 
dancing,  and  fencing,  which  accompany  a  good  breeding. 
Besides  that  he  was  amorous  of  poetry  and  music,  in 

'  Memoirs  of  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  by  his  wife. 

'  Then  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  and  afterwards  Bishop  of  Winchester.  Charles 
always  retained  an  afifection  for  the  Bi&hop,  and  visited  him  on  his  death-bed, 
and  received  his  blessing. 


NEWCASTLE'S   INSTRUCTIONS     _  5 

which  he  indulged  the  greatest  part  of  his  t  me.     He  loved 
monarchy,  as  it  was  the  foundation  and  sup  port  of  his  own 
greatness  ;  and  the  Church,  as  it  was  well  constituted  for 
the  splendour  and  security  of  the  Crown  ;  and  religion,  as 
it  cherished  and  maintained  that  order  and  obedience  that 
was  necessary  to  both."  ^     Newcastle  was  ;i  little  worldly, 
a  little  too  stiff  and  ceremonious,  a  little  too  conscious  of 
his  own  magnificence  and  worth,  but  one  oi  the  most  faith- 
ful and  efficient  servants  of  Charles  I.     He  left  England 
after  his  defeat  at  Marston  Moor,  where  his  "  white-coats" 
died  in  their  ranks,  and  we  shall  meet  him  again,  enter- 
taining Charles  II  at  Antwerp.      His  instructions  to  his 
royal  pupil    have    been    preserved    and    are    extremely 
interesting,  not  only  from  the  light  they  throw  on  New- 
castle's opinions,  but  also  from  the  comparison  which  they 
inevitably   suggest    between    their    advice    and   Charles' 
subsequent  actions  and  course  of  life.     The  letter  is  as 
follows  : 2  "May  it  please  your  Highness— since  it  pleased 
your  most  gracious  father,  his  sacred  Majesty,  to  think  me 
worthy  to  be  your  governor,  I  will  justify  his  Majesty's 
choice ;  for,  what  I  may  want  in  abilities  I  will  make  up 
with  fidelity  and  duty  to  his  Majesty,  in  diligence  and 
service  to  you.     Then  for  your  education,  sir,  it  is  fit  you 
should  have  some  languages,  though  I   :onfess  I  would 
rather  have  you   study   things   than  words,  matter   than 
language  ;   for  seldom  a  critic   in  many  languages    hath 
time  to  study  sense,  for  words  ;  and  best  he  is,  or  can  be, 
but  a  living  dictionary.     Besides,  I  would  not  have  you 
too  studious,  for  too  much  contemplation  spoils  action, 
and  virtue  consists  in  that.     What  you  read,  I  would  have 
it  history,  and  the  best  chosen  histories,  tliat  so  you  might 
compare  the  dead  with  the  living  ;  for  the  same  humours 

»  History  of  Rebellion. 

*  From  a  copy  preserved  with  the  Royal  Letter?  in  Harl.  MS.  6988, 
Art.  62.  Printed  by  Ellis,  Original  Utters,  ser.  i.  vol.  uj.  p.  288,  and  by 
C.  H.  Firth,  in  his  edition  of  the  Life  of  Duke  of  Aewcastle,  pp.  184-187. 
Quoted  by  Airy,  Charles  II,  pp.  9-1  !• 


i 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 

is  now  as  was  then  ;  there  is  no  alteration  but  in  names, 
and  though  you  meet  not  with  a  Caesar  for  the  Emperor  of 
the  whole  world,  yet  he  may  have  the  same  passions  in 
him;  and  you  are  not  to  compare  fortunes  so  much  as 
humours,  wit,  and  judgment ;  and  thus  you  shall  see  the 
excellency  and  errors  both  of  Kings  and  subjects ;    and 
though  you  are  young  in  years,  yet  living  by  your  wading 
in  all  those  times,  be  older  in  wisdom  and  judgment  than 
Nature  can  afford  any  man  to  be  without  this  help.     For 
the  arts,  I  would  have  you  know  them  so  far  as  they  are 
of  use,  and  especially  those  that  are  most  proper  for  war 
and  use  ;  but  whensoever  you  are  too  studious  your  con- 
templation will  spoil  your  government,  for  you  cannot  be 
a  good  contemplative  man  and  a  good  commonwealth's 
man  ;  therefore,  take  heed  of  too  much  book.     Beware  of 
too  much  devotion  for  a  King,  for  one  may  be  a  good  man, 
but  a  bad  King  ;  and  how  many  will  history  represent  to 
you  that  in  seeming  to  gain  the  kingdom  of  heaven  have 
lost  their  own ;  and  the  old  saying  is,  that  short  prayers 
pierce  heaven's  gates  ;  but  if  you  be  not  religious  (and  not 
only  seem  so,  but  be  so),  God  will  not  prosper  you  ;  and  if 
you  have  no  reverence  to  Him,  why  should  your  subjects 
have  any  to  you.     At  the  best,  you  are  accounted,  for 
your    greatest    honour,   His    servant.    His    deputy.    His 
anointed,  and  you  owe  as  much  reverence  and  duty  to 
Him  as  we  owe  to  you  ;  and  why,  nay  justly,  may  He  not 
punish  you  for  want  of  reverence  and  service  to  Him,  if 
you  fail  in  it,  as  well  as  you  to  punish  us  ;  but  this  subject 
I  leave  to  the  right  reverend  Father  in  God,  Lord  Bishop 
of  Chichester,  your  worthy  tutor :  your  tutor,  sir,  wherein 
you  are  most  happy,  since  he  hath  no  pedantry  in  him ; 
his  learning  he  makes  right  use  of,  neither  to  trouble  him- 
self with  it  nor  his  friends  ;  reads  men  as  well  as  books  ; 
and  goes  the  next  way  to  everything  that  he  should,  and 
that  is  what  he  would,  for  his  will  is  governed  by  that  law  ; 
the  purity  of  his  wit  doth  not  spoil  the  serenity  of  his 
judgment;    travelled,   which  you   shall   perceive   by  his 


RELIGION   IN  A  PRINCE  7 

wisdom  and  fashion  more  than  by  his  relations  ;  and  in  a 
word  strives  as  much  discreetly  to  hide  the  scholar  in  him, 
as  other  men's  follies  to  shew  it ;  and  is  aright  gentleman, 
such  a  one  as  a  man  should  be.     But,  s  ir,  to  fall  back 
again  to   your   reverence  at  prayers,  so  far  as  concerns 
reason  and  your  advantage  is  my  duty  to  t(;ll  you  ;  then  I 
say,  sir,  were  there  no  heaven  or  hell,  you  shall  see  the 
disadvantage  for  your  government ;  if  you  have  no  rever- 
ence at  prayers,  what  will  the  people  ha/e,  think  you  ? 
They  go  according  to  the   example  of  the    Princes ;   if 
they  have  none,  then  they  have  no  obedience   to   God  ; 
there  they  will  easily  have   none  to  your  Highness;  no 
obedience,  no  subjects ;  no  subjects— ther  your  power  is 
off  that  side,  and  whether  it  be  in  one  or  riore  then  that's 
King,  and  thus  they  will  turn  tables  with  you.^     Of  the 
other  side,  if  any  be  Bible  mad,  overmuch  burned  with 
fiery  zeal,  they  may  think  it  a  service  to  God  to  destroy 
you  and  say  the  Spirit  moved  them  and  bring  some  example 
of  a  king  with  a  hard  name  in  the  Old  Testament.     Thus 
one  way  you  may  have  a  civil  war,  the  other  a  private 
treason  ;  and  he  that  cares  not  for  his  own  life  is  master  of 
another  man's.     For  books  thus  much  more  ;  the  greatest 
clerks  are  not  the  wisest  men  ;  and  the  great  troublers 
of  the  world,  the  greatest  captains,  were  aot  the  greatest 
scholars ;  neither  have  I  known  bookwoims  great  states- 
men  ;  some  have  heretofore  and  some  ai  e  now,  but  they 
study  men  more  now  than  books,  or  else  they  would  prove 
but  silly  statesmen.     For  a  mere  scholar,^  there  is  nothing 
so  simple  for  this  world.     The  reason  is  ])lain,  for  divinity 
teaches  what  we   should   be,  not  what  we  are ;  so  doth 
moral  philosophy,   and   many  philosophical  worlds'   and 

*  Newcastle  may  seem  here  to  be  too  much  a  folio  wer  of  Machiavelli  or 
the  Bacon  of  the  essays,  but  he  is  deliberately  confining  himself  to  the  worldly 

point  of  view. 

«  Cf.  Bishop  Earle's  MicrocosmograpUe  (1628-33),  nuch  read  at  this  time, 
ed.  Arber,  1895,  p.  40.  "A  downe  right  Scholler."  This  same  Earle  was 
afterwards  Prince  Charles'  tutor  in  Paris,  1646. 


t 


3 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


Utopias*  scholars  have  made   and  fancied  to  themselves 
such  worlds  as  never  was,  is,  or  shall  be ;  and  then  I  dare 
say  if  they  govern  themselves  by  those  rules  what  men 
should  be,  or  not  what  they  are,  they  will  miss  the  cushion 
very   much.     But,   sir,  you  are  in    your   own  disposition 
religious  and  not  very  apt  to  your  book,  so  you  need  no 
great  labour  to  persuade  you  from  the  one,  or  long  dis- 
courses to  dissuade  you  from  the  other.     The  thing  that  I 
have  discoursed  to  you  most  is  to  be  courteous  and  civil  to 
everybody;    set    to,   make    difference   of  cabinges,^   and, 
believe  it,  the  putting  off  of  your  hat,  and  making  a  leg 
pleases  more  than  reward  or  preservation,  so  much  doth  it 
take  all  kind  of  people.     Then  to  speak  well  of  everybody, 
and  when  you  hear  people  speak  ill  of  others  reprehend 
them  and  seem  to  dislike  it  so  much,  as  do  not  look  of 
them  so  favourably  for  a  few  days  after,  and  say  something 
in  favour  of  those  that  have  been  spoke  against ;  for  you 
may  say  something  of  everybody  to  the  best ;  the  other 
which  is  railing,  scorn,  and  jeering,  is  fitter  for  porters, 
watermen,  and  carmen,  than  for  gentlemen  ;   how  much 
more  then  for  a  Prince,  whose  dislike  is  death,  and  kills 
any  subject.     Besides,  you  may  be  sure  the   parties  will 
hear  of  it,  and  though  they  dare  do  nothing  because  they 
want  power,  nor  say  nothing  for  fear  of  being  troubled, 
yet  believe  it,  sir,  they  are  traitors  in  their  hearts  to  you', 
and  of  your  own  making,  and  so  are  all  their  friends.     Of 
the  other  side,  to  speak  well  of  them  will  be  told  too,  and 
that  wins  them  as  much  ;  the  other  loses  them  ;  and  this 
way  you   will  get  their  hearts,    and  then    you   have   all 
they  have,  more  you  cannot  have.     And  how  easy  a  way 
is  this  to  have  the  people.     To  lose  your  dignity  and  set 
by  your  state,  I  do  not  advise  you  to  that,  but  the  con- 
trary ;  for  what  preserves  you  Kings  more  than  ceremony  ? 
The  cloth  of  estates,  the  distance  people  are  with  you, 
great  officers,  heralds,  drums,   trumpeters,   rich   coaches! 

too  "low'^-^tird!"''^  ''^''^''*  "^^"''^  apjjroaches  it  in  look  and  sound,  seems 


PUBLIC   LIFE  9 

rich  furniture  for  horses,  guards,  marshal's;  men  making 
room,  disorders  to  be  laboured  by  their  stafl  of  office,  and 
cry,  *  Now  the  King  comes.*  I  know  these  maskers  ^  the 
people  sufficiently ;  aye,  even  the  wisest,  thDugh  he  knew 
it  and  not  accustomed  to  it,  shall  shake  off  his  wisdom, 
and  shake  for  fear  of  it,  and  this  is  the  mist  is  cast  before 
us,  and  maskers^  the  Commonwealth.  Besides  authority 
doth  what  it  list.  I  mean  power  that's  the  stronger, 
though  sometimes  it  shifts  sides,  therefore  the  King  must 
know  at  what  time  to  play  the  King,  and  when  to  qualify 
it,  but  never  put  it  off;  for  in  all  triumphs  whatsoever  or 
public  showing  yourself,  you  cannot  put  upon  you  too 
much  king ;  yet  even  there  sometimes  a  hat  or  a  smile  in 
the  right  place  will  advantage  you,  but  at  ether  times  you 
may  do  more,  and  civil  speeches  to  people  iind  short  doth 
much  win  of  them ;  and  certainly,  sir,  civility  cannot 
unprince  you,  but  much  advantage  you.  To  women  you 
cannot  be  too  civil,  especially  to  great  ones;  what  hurt 
were  it  to  send  them  a  dish  from  your  table-  when  they 
dine  with  some  of  your  great  lords,  and  to  drink  their 
health  ?  Certainly,  sir,  you  cannot  lose  by  courtesy.  I 
mean  not  you  should  be  so  familiar  as  to  bring  you  to 
contempt,  for  I  mean  you  should  keep  you  'self  up  Prince 
still,  and  in  all  your  actions,  but  I  would  not  have  you  so 
seared  with  majesty  as  to  think  you  are  not  of  mankind, 
nor  suffer  others  or  yourself  to  flatter  you  lo  much.  The 
incommodities  to  life  and  the  sustaining  of  it,  and  the 
same  things  the  meanest  do,  you  must  do  the  like  or  not 
live,  these  things  when  you  are  pleased  to  think  of  them 
will  persuade  you  that  are  of  the  lump  of  m;m,  and  mortal, 
and  the  more  you  repeat  these  thoughts  tht  better  Prince 
you  will  be,  both  to  serve  God  and  for  distributive  justice 
to  your  people ;  for  being  a  Prince  you  ought  rather  to 
give  Almighty  God  thanks  for  the  advantage-ground  you 
have  of  other  people,  than  to  be  proud.  I  mean  not  by 
repeating  your  mortality  to  have  a  death's- bead  set  always 

*  Firth,  cj.  masters. 


lO 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


before  you,  or  to  cry  every  morning  that  you  are  mortal, 
for  I  would  not  have  you  fall  into  a  divine  melancholy,  to 
be  an  anchorite  or  a  capuchin,  or  with  a  philosophical 
discourse  to  be  a  Diogenes  in  your  tub  ;  but  to  temper 
yourself  so  by  this  means,  as  to  be  a  brave,  noble  and  just 
King,  and  make  your  name  immortal  by  your  brave  acts 
abroad  and  your  unspotted  justice  at  home,  qualified  by 
your  well  temper  and  mercy." 

It  may  be  said  that  Charles  did  not  forget  one  of  these 
precepts,  though  he  carried  some  of  them  further  than 
Newcastle  would  have  approved.  The  earliest  letter  of 
Prince  Charles  which  we  possess,  belongs  to  this  time, 
written  between  pencil  lines,  ruled  by  Peter  Massonet,  the 
Prince's  writing-master.  Henrietta  Maria  had  been  applied 
to  by  Newcastle,  in  despair,  for  he  could  not  make  the 
Prince  take  his  medicine  ;  and  Charles  wrote  after  the 
terrible  event  to  his  tutor :  "  My  Lord,  I  would  not  have 
you  take  too  much  Phisik,  for  it  doth  allwaies  make  me 
worse,  and  I  think  it  will  do  the  like  with  you.  I  ride 
every  day,  and  am  ready  to  follow  any  other  directions 
from  you.  Make  hast  to  returne  to  him  that  loves  you. 
Charles  P.    For  my  lord  of  Newcastle."  ^ 

Before  we  pass  out  of  the  sunshine  of  Charles*  boyhood 
into  the  shadow  of  the  Civil  War,  there  remains  one  story 
of  a  vision  which  appeared  to  him  at  the  age  of  five,  of  a 
large  blackbird  in  a  tree  of  the  royal  garden  ;  the  little 
Prince  sent  some  one  down  with  a  gun  to  shoot  the  bird  ; 
but  to  the  sportsman's  surprise  he  found,  not  a  bird,  but 
the  twelve-year-old  widow  of  Lord  Herbert,  eldest  son  of 
the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  engaged  in  stealing  fruit,  with  which 
she  pelted  her  hunter,  till  he  consented  to  take  her  in  a 
basket  to  the  Prince,  as  "  a  butterfly"  ;  when  the  little  Prince 
opened  the  basket,  she  jumped  out  and  kissed  him,  gaining 
for  herself  the  Court-name  of  "  Butterfly."  * 

*  Airy,  Charles  11,  pp.  12,  13  ;  Captain  Clayton,  Personal  History  of 
Charles  Ily  i. 

*  Lady  Burghclere,   George  VillierSy  Second  Duke  of  Buckingham ,   pp. 
16-17 ;  and  Mme.  d'Aulnoy,  Memoirs  de  la  Cour  d* Angleterre,  ii.  59. 


\\' 


LORD    HERTFORD 


II 


Charles'  initiation  into  serious  affairs  Wcs  on  11  May, 
1641,  when  he  carried  his  father's  letter  on  behalf  of 
Strafford  to  the  Lords,  without  success.  In  August,  the 
Earl  of  Newcastle  resigned  his  charge  to  William  Seymour, 
Marquis  of  Hertford,  "  a  man  of  great  honou  ^  great  interest 
in  fortune  and  estate,  and  of  a  universal  es  teem  over  the 
kingdom  ;  ...  it  is  very  true,  in  many  respects  he  wanted 
those  qualities  which  might  have  been  wislied  to  be  in  a 
person  to  be  trusted  in  the  education  of  a  great  and  hope- 
ful Prince,  and  in  the  forming  his  mind  and  manners  in  so 
tender  an  age.  He  was  of  an  age  not  fit  fo*  much  activity 
and  fatigue,  and  loved,  and  was  even  wedded  so  much  to, 
his  ease,  that  he  loved  his  book  above  all  exercises  ;  and 
had  even  contracted  such  a  laziness  of  mind  that  he  had  no 
delight  in  an  open  and  liberal  conversation,  and  cared  not 
to  discourse  and  argue  in  those  points  which  he  understood 
very  well,  only  for  the  trouble  of  contending ;  and  could 
never  impose  upon  himself  the  pain  that  was  necessary  to 
be  undergone  in  such  a  perpetual  attendance.  But  then 
those  lesser  duties  might  be  otherwise  pre  vided  for,  and 
he  could  well  support  the  dignity  of  a  goveinor,  and  exact 
that  diligence  from  others  which  he  could  not  exercise 
himself ;  and  his  honour  was  so  unblemished  that  none 
durst  murmur  against  the  designation '* ;  though  unwilling, 
through  consciousness  of  his  constitutional  defects  for  such 
a  post,  the  Marquis  accepted  the  governorship  of  the  Prince, 
because  "  the  refusing  it  might  prove  disadvantageous  to 
his  Majesty."^  On  12  January,  Charles  weni:  to  Cambridge, 
took  his  honorary  M.A.,  and  went  away  the  same  day  ; 
he  was  incorporated  M.A.  of  Oxford  on  AH  Hallows  Day, 
1642  ;  while  the  Duke  of  York  was  then  mj.de  M.A  also. 

In  February,  1642,  Prince  Charles  came  to  Greenwich 
to  meet  his  father,  leaving  his  former  residence  at 
Hampton  Court,  in  spite  of  the  Parliament's  protests. 
It  was  even  rumoured  that  the  rebellious  psrty  were  ready 

*  Clarendon,  ffistoty  of  ^Rebellion,  iv.  295-296  (ed.  Macray,   1888  ;   ij. 
563-564). 


12 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS    COURT 


EDGEHILL  FIGHT 


13 


to  take  the  Prince  from  his  father  by  force,  while  the  King 
was  at  Theobald's  ;  but  the  danger  was  averted  by  con- 
tinuing the  northward  march. 

In  March,  Prince  Charles  found  time  to  write  to  his 
sister  Mary :  "  To  the  hands  of  the  Lady  Marie,  Princess 
of  Auriana,  these  presents.  Most  Royal  Sister,  Methinks, 
although  I  cannot  enjoy  that  former  happiness  which  I 
was  wont  in  the  fruition  of  your  society,  being  barred 
those  joys  by  the  parting  waves,  yet  I  cannot  so  forget 
the  kindness  I  owe  unto  so  dear  a  sister  as  not  to  write ; 
also  expecting  the  like  salutation  from  you,  that  although 
awhile  dissevered,  we  may  reciprocally  understand  each 
other's  welfare.  I  could  heartily  and  with  a  fervent  devo- 
tion wish  your  return,  were  it  not  to  lessen  your  delights 
in  your  royal  spouse,  the  Prince  of  Orange,  who,  as  I  con- 
ceived by  his  last  letter,  was  as  joyful  for  your  presence  as 
we  are  sad  and  mourning  for  your  absence.  My  father  is 
very  much  disconsolate  and  troubled,  partly  for  my  royal 
mother's  and  your  absence,  and  partly  for  the  disturbances 
of  this  kingdom.  Dear  sister,  we  are  as  much  as  we  may 
merry,  and  more  than  we  would  sad,  in  respect  we  cannot 
alter  the  present  distempers  of  these  troublesome  times. 
My  father's  resolution  is  now  for  York,  where  he  intends 
to  reside,  to  see  the  event  or  sequel  to  these  bad  unpropiti- 
ous  beginnings ;  whither  you  direct  your  letter.  Thus 
much  desiring  your  comfortable  answer  to  these  my  sad 
lines,  I  rest,  Your  loving  brother,  Charles  Princeps.  Roy- 
ston,  9  March,  1642."  ^ 

In  May  his  Highness  was  made  Captain  of  the  Prince 
of  Wales'  Own  Troop  of  Lifeguards.  As  Hertford  was  now 
required  elsewhere,  a  new  tutor  was  found  for  the  Prince 
in  the  Earl  of  Berkshire,  "for  no  other  reason  but  because  he 
had  a  mind  to  it,  and  his  importunity  was  very  troublesome; 
a  man,  of  any  who  bore  the  name  of  a  gentleman,  the  most 

*  Ellis,  Original  Letters,  iv.  2,  quoted  by  Miss  Strickland,  Tudor  and 
Stuart  Princesses,  ed.  1888,  pp.  264-265.  The  letter  was  either  dictated,  or 
the  boy  had  not  yet  found  his  characteristic  style. 


unfit  for  that  province,  or  any  other  that  required  any 
proportion  of  wisdom  and  understanding  for  the  discharge 
of  it.     His  affection  for  the  Crown  was  good  ;  his  interest 
and  reputation  less  than  any  thing  but  his  understanding."  ^ 
Unfortunately,  Berkshire  later  had  every  opportunity  of 
employing  his  negative  qualities  in  the  formation  of  the 
Prince's  character,  and  his  lack  of  understanding  in  his 
councils.     The  Prince  was  present  at  the  setting  up  of  the 
Royal   Standard   at   Nottingham,   and   with   his   brother 
James    at   the   battle   of   Edgehill    in   October.      At   the 
beginning  of  the  fight,  Dr.  Harvey^  was  entrusted  with 
the  two  Princes,  took  them  to  a  place  apparently  safe,  sat 
down,  took  a  book  from  his  pocket,  and  read  till  disturbed 
by  a  cannon-ball  striking  ground  hard  b v ;  whereat  he 
removed   his   quarters.      Later  the   old    Earl   of   Dorset 
was  bidden  by  the  King  take  the  boys  out  of  danger, 
but  refused,  saying  that  he  would  not  be  thought  a  coward 
for  ever  a  King's  son  in  Christendom.     Eiyde  then  took 
the  Princes,  and  gives  an  account  ^  of  the  subsequent  events 
differing  somewhat  from  that  of  Sir  John  Hinton,  physician 
to  the  King,  who  says  in   1679,  writing  for  the  King's 
perusal:^  "Your  Majesty  was  unhappily  left  in  a  large 
field,  at  which  time  I  had  the  honour  to  attend  your 
person  ;  and  seeing  the  danger,  I  did  with  all  earnestness, 
most  humbly,  but  at  length  somewhat  rudely,  importune 
your  Highness ;  at  which  your  Highness  was  pleased  to 
tell  me  you  feared  them  not,  and  drawing  pistol  resolved 
to  charge   them,  but  I  did  prevail.      Bu:  one  of  those 
troopers,  being  excellently  mounted,  broke  his  rank,  and 
coming  full  career,  I  dismounted  him  in  closing,  and  Mr. 
Matthews,  a  gentleman  pensioner,  rides   up  and  with  a 
pole-axe    decides    the   contest."      Hyde's  account  is   as 

»  Clarendon,  History  of  Rebellion,  vj.  390 ;  vij.  324  (N^cray,  ij.  p.  533  ;  iij. 
p.  259). 

'  The  great  physician. 

»  History  of  Rebellion,  p.  358  sqq,,  and  id.  ed.  ij.  353  sqq. 

♦  Cf.  Airy,  Charles  I  J,  p.  16. 


•  v 

IP 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

follows :  "  When  the  King  discerned  how  doubtfully  affairs 
stood,  he  commanded  the  prince  of  Wales  and  the  duke 
of  York,  who  were  both  very  young,  to  withdraw  to  the 
top  of  the  hill,  attended  only  by  his  company  of  pensioners, 
and  commanded  Mr.  Hyde  to  wait  upon  them,  and  not 
depart  from  them;  and  as  they  went  towards  the  hill, 
the  evening  now  approaching,  they  saw  a  body  of  horse 
which  they  made  no  doubt  was  the  King's,  and  so  moved 
towards  them,  when  sir  Richard  Grime,  an  equerry  of  the 
King's,  rid  very  little  before  to  know  them,  which  he  quickly 
did,  and  was  beaten  off  his  horse,  and  so  well  counter- 
feited being  killed  that  he  was  presently  stripped  ;  all 
which  being  in  the  prince's  view,  gave  him  advertisement 
what  they  were,  so  that  he  diverted  his  course  to  the 
other  hand,  and  that  body  moved  as  quickly  from  him, 
being  evidently  in  great  apprehension ;  and  the  princes 
had  not  been  long  upon  the  hill  before  the  King  sent  order 
they  should  go  to  Edgeworth,  where  his  majesty  had  lain 
the  night  before." 

In  November,  Prince  Charles  was  taken  ill  at  Reading, 
and  then  spent  some  time  with  his  new  tutor  at  Oxford, 
which  the  Royalists  made  their  head-quarters  from  1642-46. 
Of  the  appearance  of  Oxford  during  the  residence  of 
the  King  and  Queen  we  have  a  vivid  account  in  "John 
Inglesant,"  where  a  passage  from  Burton's  "Anatomy  of 
Melancholy  "  is  used  with  appropriateness  and  effect.  "  It 
was  really  no  inapt  hyperbole  of  the  classic  wits  which 
compared  this  motley  scene  to  the  marriage  of  Jupiter 
and  Juno  of  old,  when  all  the  gods  were  invited  to  the 
feast,  and  many  noble  personages  besides,  but  to  which 
also  came  a  motley  company  of  mummers,  maskers, 
fantastic  phantoms,  whifflers,  thieves,  rufflers,  gulls,  wizards 
and  monsters,  and  among  the  rest,  Crysalus,  a  Persian 
Prince  bravely  attended,  clad  in  rich  and  gay  attire,  and 
of  majestic  presence,  but  otherwise  an  ass;  whom  the  gods 
at  first  seeing  him  enter  in  such  pomp,  rose  and  saluted, 
taking  him  for  one  worthy  of  honour  and  high  place,  and 


OXFORD,    1642-44 


IS 


whom  Jupiter,  perceiving  what  he  was,  turned  with  his 
retinue  into  butterflies,  who  continued  in  pi  id  coats  roving 
about  among  the  gods  and  the  wiser  sort  ol  men.^  Some- 
thing of  this  kind  here  happened,  when  wi:jdom  and  folly, 
vice  and  piety,  learning  and  gaiety,  terrible  earnest  even 
to  death  and  light  frivolity,  jostled  eacK  other  in  the 
stately  precincts  of  Parnassus  and  Olympus."  ^  The  King 
and  the  young  Princes  lodged  in  Chri:>t  Church,  the 
Queen  in  Merton,  and  the  whole  city  was  filled  with 
soldiers,  courtiers,  camp-followers,  a  nev  and  motley 
population.  Drilling,  building,  fortifying:,  provisioning, 
storing,  skirmishes  and  rumours  of  skirmishes,  were 
mingled  with  stage-plays  in  Christ  Church  or  St.  John's 
Hall,  and  the  giving  of  honorary  degrees,  and  the  preach- 
ing of  sermons  on  Divine  Right,  and  the  try^ing  of  cases  at 
law  by  Lord-keeper,  Lord  Chief  Justice,  at.d  all  the  great 
legal  officers  of  the  realm. 

From  November,  1642,  till  about  June,  1:644,  the  Prince 
of  Wales  remained  in  Oxford ;  on  18  Juna  he  came  from 
a  visit  to  Burford  to  Oxford,  on  the  23rd  wtnt  from  Oxford 
to  the  King  at  Buckingham,  and  on  the  27th  fought  by 
his  father's  side  at  Cropredy  Bridge.  By  15  July  he  was 
with  the  King  at  Bath,  and  in  November  returned  to 
Oxford  ;  during  this  time  he  had  been  into  the  far  West, 
fought  in  the  second  battle  of  Newbury  on  27  October, 
and  doubtless  gained  a  good  knowledge  ol  the  dissensions 
and  jealousies  among  the  King's  nobles,  and  the  hopeless- 
ness of  the  cause.  Of  the  Prince's  second  stay  in  Oxford 
we  have  two  anecdotes  preserved ;  he  incurred  a  blow  on 
the  head  from  his  father's  staff  in  S.  Mary  s  Church,  being 
observed  "to  laugh  at  sermon-time  upon  the  ladies  who 
sat  against  him."*    We  are  forcibly  reminded  of  certain 

*  Burton,  Anai.  Mel.  (ed.  1836,  pp.  25-26). 

'  John  Inglesant,  ch.  ix.  (ed.  1905,  pp.  96-97).  I  make  no  apology  for 
quoting  this  again,  though  Mr.  Marriott  has  already  doi  e  so  in  his  admirable 
volume  on  Falkland  in  this  series,  as  it  is  so  eminently  appropriate. 

*  Diary  of  £>r,  Edw,  Lake  (Camden  Soc.  Misc.  i) ;  qiotcd  by  Airy,  p.  17. 


i6 


CHARLES    II   AND   HIS   COURT 


later  scenes  in  the  Royal  Chapel,  recorded  by  Pepys  and 
Evelyn.  On  another  occasion,  Charles  saw  a  rebel  soldier 
being  dragged  along  the  streets,  and  recommended  his 
immediate  hanging,  in  case  his  father  should  pardon  him. 
Of  the  Prince's  earlier  stay  in  Oxford,  we  are  told  that  by 
the  request  of  his  cousin  Rupert,  Prince  Charles  pleaded 
successfully  for  the  life  of  Colonel  Feilding,  condemned  to 
death  for  his  surrender  of  Reading. 

In  March,  1645,  the  King  sent  his  son  into  the  West, 
and  gave  him  a  regular  Council,  made  him  Duke  of 
Cornwall,  general  of  the  Western  Association  and  general- 
issimo of  all  the  King's  forces  in  England  and  Wales.  He 
left  Oxford  at  eleven  o'clock,  4  or  5  March,  1645,  in  an 
incessant  storm  of  rain,  lodged  that  night  at  Faringdon, 
passed  thence  to  Devizes,  reached  Bath  on  the  6th  or  7th, 
and  stayed  there  for  a  few  days.  Suffering  greatly  on  his 
journey  for  lack  of  food  and  money,  he  found  Bristol,  on 
9  April,  in  a  similar  state.  In  Council  the  Prince  of 
Wales  was  judiciously  repressed  by  Hyde,  who  with 
Prince  Rupert,  did  his  best  to  secure  order  and  efficiency ; 
but  Goring  and  Grenville  rendered  all  measures  of  reform 
ineffectual  by  violence  and  disobedience,  though  for  a  time 
difficulties  were  smoothed  over  at  the  public  meeting  at 
Bridgewater  on  23  April  ;  there  Mrs.  Wyndham,  nurse 
of  Charles,  first  showed  her  evil  influence  over  the  Prince. 
As  wife  of  the  Governor  of  Bridgewater,  she  was  a  woman 
of  some  importance,  as  nurse  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  she 
conceived  herself  to  be  of  still  greater  moment,  and  en- 
couraged the  boy  in  less  serious,  if  not  absolutely  vicious, 
pursuits  ;  she  even  tried  to  weaken  his  respect  for  his 
father,  and  to  set  his  Counqil  against  his  household. 
"  Being  a  woman  of  great  rudeness  and  a  country  pride, 
nikil  muliebre  prater  corpus  gerens,  she  valued  herself  much 
upon  the  power  and  familiarity  which  her  neighbours 
might  see  she  had  with  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  therefore 
upon  all  occasions  in  company,  and  when  the  concourse  of 
people   was  greatest,  would  use  great  boldness  towards 


IN   THE  WEST 


«7 


him,  and  sometimes  in  dancing  would  run  the  length  of 
the  room  and  kiss  him ;  add  to  this,  that  she  affected  in 
all  companies  a  very  negligent  and  disdairful  mention  of 
the  person  of  the  King,  all  which  made  us  desire  that  the 
Prince  should  be  as  little  in  her  company  as  might  be."  * 
On  30  April,  Charles  returned  to  Bristol,  but  there  the 
plague  broke  out,  and  at  the  beginning  of  June  he  went  to 
Wells,  thence  to  Bridgewater,  and  thence  on  the  25th,  to 
Barnstaple,  with  which  "fine  sweet  pace"  he  was 
much  delighted.  On  21  July  he  writes  to  Sir  George 
Carteret  from  Liscard,  asking  speedy  help  for  Guernsey 
Castle.  Owing  to  the  increasing  factions  and  jealousies  in 
the  West,  it  became  impossible  for  the  Royalists  to  make 
any  effectual  resistance  to  the  rebel  forces,  and  the  last 
months  of  the  Prince's  stay  in  England  were  spent  in 
marching  and  counter-marching  to  very  little  purpose. 
On  28  July  he  was  at  Launceston,  on  29  August  in 
Exeter,  where,  instead  of  lodging  at  the  ]  Deanery,  as  he 
had  done  on  his  visit  in  1644,  he  probably  slept  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Potter,  a  merchant,  where  the  ostler,  who  met 
him  at  Bridport  in  165 1,  saw  him.  The  Pr  nee  found  time 
to  visit  his  little  sister  Henrietta  Anne,  and  for  her  sake 
he  always  entertained  kindly  memories  of  Jixeter ;  and  at 
her  death  in  1670,  he  gave  the  city  her  portrait  by  Lely, 
which  still  hangs  in  the  Guildhall  there. 

On  16  September,  Charles  was  again  at  Launceston, 
on  24  October  in  Liscard,  about  21  November  in  Truro; 
he  then  made  a  great  effort  to  relieve  E:xeter,  starting 
26  December,  and  marching  by  Bodra  n,^  Tavistock, 
Totnes,   and   Dartmouth ;   as   hope  of  rel  eving  the  city 

*  Clarendon,  ix.  18-19,  vol.  iv.  p.  23  ;  Airy,  pp.  20-i!r.  Clarendon  also 
says,  **  The  Bishop  of  Salisbury  drew  attention  of  the  Council  when  at  Barn- 
stable to  the  bad  companionship  of  a  youth  named  Wh.jcler,  who  forthwith 
was  ejected  from  the  town."— Clarendon,  ix.,  quoted  Dy  Fea,  SevcnUentk 
Century  Beauties. 

^^  J  It  was,  perhaps,  at  this  time  that  he  made  the  remak  that  Bodmin  was 
uie  politest  town  he  had  ever  seen;  half  the  houses  W2re  bowing,  and  the 
other  half  uncovered  "  (Hone  Table-Book,  i.  348). 


1. 


ii 


r- 


I 


ii 


i8 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


vanished,  he  retreated  by  Tavistock  to  Launceston,  in 
January,  1646,  to  Truro  on  12  February,  and  finally  on  17 
February  to  Pendennis  Castle,  where  he  stayed  till  Monday, 
2  March,  1646,  when  he  embarked  at  10  p.m.  with  Hyde, 
Colepeper,  and  Berkshire,  on  the  "  Phoenix  "  frigate,  arriving 
in  St  Mary's,  Scilly  Isles,  on  Wednesday  afternoon. 

During  the  last  months  of  the  struggle  in  the  West, 

letters  were  constantly  arriving  from  the  King,  relative  to 

the  ultimate  destination  of  the   Prince  of  Wales,  in  the 

worse  event.      France   and    Denmark   were   successively 

suggested,  Scotland  and  Ireland  absolutely  forbidden ;  it 

was,  however,  strongly  felt  that  Charles  should  keep  on 

English  territory,  and  therefore  the  flight  was  made  to  the 

Scilly  Isles.     Mrs.  (afterwards   Lady)  Fanshawe,  wife  of 

Charles*  secretary,  thus  describes  the  wretched   state  of 

St.  Mary's  and  its  visitors.    "After  being  pillaged,  and 

extremely  sick,  I  was  set  on  shore  almost  dead  in  the 

island  of  Scilly.    When  we  had  got  to  our  quarters  near 

the  Castle,  where  the  Prince  lay,  I  went  immediately  to 

bed,  which  was  so  vile,  that  my  footman  ever  lay  in  a 

better,  and  we  had  but  three  in  the  whole  house,  which 

consisted   of  four  rooms,  or  rather   partitions,   two  low 

rooms  and  two  little  lofts,  with  a  ladder  to  go  up  ;  in  one 

of  these  they  kept  dried  fish,  which  was  his  trade,  and  in 

this  my  husband's  two  clerks  lay,  one  there  was  for  my 

sister,  and  one  for  myself,  and  one  amongst  the  rest  of  the 

servants.     But,  when  I  waked  in  the  morning,  I  was  so 

cold  I  knew  not  what  to  do,  but  the  daylight  discovered 

that  my  bed  was  near  swimming  with  the  sea,  which  the 

owner  told  us  afterward  it  never  did  so  but  at  spring-tide. 

.  With  this,  we  were  destitute  of  clothes,  and  meat,  and  fuel, 

for  half  the  Court  to  serve  them  for  a  month  was  not  to  be 

had  in  the  whole  island  ;  and  truly  we  begged  our  daily 

bread  of  God,  for  we  thought  every  meal  our  Last.     The 

Council  sent  for  provisions  to  France,  which  served  us,  but 

they  were  bad,  and  a  little  of  them."  ^    This  scarcity,  and 

*  Memoirs  of  Lady  Fanshawe^  p.  7*» 


ARRIVAL   IN  JERSEY 


19 


the  danger  from  Parliamentary  cruisers,  induced  Charles 
and  his  Council  to  leave  the  island,  and  on  Thursday, 
16  April,  they  and  the  three  hundred  persons  of  the 
King's  retinue  embarked  on  the  "  Proud  Bl  ick  Eagle  "  and 
two  smaller  vessels,  and  arrived  in  Jersey  on  Friday 
evening,  "beyond  the  belief  of  all  beholders  from  that 
island ;  for  the  pilot  not  knowing  the  way  into  the 
harbour,  sailed  over  the  rocks,  but  being  spring-tide,  and 
by  chance  high  water,  God  be  praised,  his  Highness  and 
all  of  us  came  safe  ashore,  through  so  great  u  danger."  ^  On 
the  voyage  to  Jersey,  Prince  Charles  steered  the  frigate 
himself,  staying  two  hours  at  a  time  at  i:he  helm.  One 
of  his  first  commands  on  coming  to  Jersey  was  that  a 
barge  should  be  built  for  him  at  St.  IV[alo;  and  on  8 
June,  1646,  it  was  ready,  a  perfect  model  of  a  pinnace,  of 
great  length  fore  and  aft ;  painted  and  blazoned  with  the 
Prince's  arms.  She  had  cushioned  stern-sheets,  twelve 
pairs  of  oars,  two  masts,  and  two  sails  ;  and  in  her,  there- 
after, Charles  always  went  over  from  the  Castle  to  the 
mainland.  On  the  second  Sunday  after  his  arrival,  the 
Prince  came  to  service  in  St.  Heliers ;  the  church  was 
carpeted,  and  strewn  and  decorated  with  f  owers ;  and  his 
Highness  was  escorted  by  a  guard  of  one  hundred  cavaliers, 
and  two  hundred  musketeers.  While  in  Jersey,  Charles 
was  even  more  devout  than  in  Cornwall,  and  Lady  Fan- 
shawe says  that  she  only  saw  him  at  church,  where  he 
occasionally  received  the  Sacrament.  V/hile  doing  his 
duty  in  the  Council  and  as  commander  of  the  troops 
Charles  did  not  neglect  to  win  the  hearts  of  the  Jersey 
folk.^  Chevalier,  a  gentleman  of  Jersey,  kept  a  full  journal 
of  the  Prince's  various  visits  to  the  island,  whence  we 
glean  most  of  our  information  concerning  iiese  matters. 

Chevalier's  own  summary  of  his  Prince  is  :  "  C'6toit  un 
Prince  grandement  b^nin."    For  Charles  in  Jersey  showed 

*  Memoirs  of  Lady  Fanshawe^  ?•  71. 

^  For  the  life  in  Jersey,  cf.  S.  E.  Hoskins,  Charles  II  in  the  Channel 
Islands,  1854 ;  Airy,  ch.  i.,  etc. 


\ 


I 


II 

\ 
I 

i 


M 


/ 


20 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


all  the  tact  and  care  in  trifles  of  courtesy  for  which  he  is 
distinguished.    Chevalier  describes  his  table  thus :  "  Quand 
au  sujet  du  maintien  de  la  table  de  ce  Prince,  il  6toit  tel, 
que  chacun  savoit  son  poste,  et  les  choses  y  ^toient  mises 
pour  un  si  bon  ordre,  que  le  tout  se  faisoit  avec  plaisir  et 
contentement  k  les  voir,  comme  chacun  etoit  prompt  k  son 
office."     At  the  upper  end  of  the  table  were  laid  silver 
plate,  knife,  and  fork ;  in  dishes  of  silver  were  served  up 
the  meat  and  fish  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Duncome,  the 
server.     First,  Charles  stood  uncovered  while  a  Doctor  of 
Theology  pronounced  a  blessing,  then,  putting  on  his  hat, 
seated  himself,  the  Doctor  standing  at  his  right  hand,  and 
the  lords  and  gentlemen-in-waiting,  all  uncovered,  round 
him.     A  page,  kneeling  on  one  knee,  presented  a  silvergilt 
ewer  and  basin,  and  a  napkin  ;  and  after  the  Prince  had 
washed  and  dried  his  hands,  each  dish  in  succession  was 
offered  to  him.     The  dish  selected  was  taken  to  a  side 
carver  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  table,  who  carved  some 
slices,  and  then  tasted  and  laid  them  on  a  silver  plate,  and 
his  Highness  then  cut  up  and  ate  the  slices.     Another 
kneeling  page  gave  him  bread  cut  into  long  thin  pieces, 
on  a  silver   salver,  and  when  he  had   finished   the   first 
course,  his  plate  and  the  dish  partaken  of  were  removed. 
The  cup-bearer  then  offered  the  Prince  to  drink,  having 
first  tasted  the  draught  himself,  and  whilst  his  Highness 
drank,  held  a  vessel  under  his  chin,  lest  a  drop  should  fall 
upon  his  clothes.    The  cup  empty,  the  page  took  it,  retiring 
with  a  bow.     After  the  meal,  the  carver  collected  the 
remnants  of  broken  bread,  etc.,  in  a  silver  dish,  dessert  was 
served,  the  chaplain  said  grace,  and  the  Prince  went  out. 
This  is  all  very  orderly  and  stately,  far  otherwise  than  the 
manner  of  dining  in  state  after  the  Restoration,  where  the 
lords-in-waiting  were  often  unfit  by  slovenliness  of  dress, 
or  actual  intoxication,  to  wait  upon  the  King,  and  when  the 
spectators  were  not  to  be  kept  back  by  the  guards  from 
violently  ravishing  away  the  good  things.     Whether  the 
cooking  and  selection  of  the  victuals  were  good,  we  do  not 


M 


ii.jiiili  ^•jii'ifiwliiii^'i  lil'iiliiw.tiiiiMiii"  ii^'i'i'i    ' 


*■*  'f^iiiimmtmm*  mW*  1    mnw «  y|>|!l|i>y 


THE   COUNCIL  DIVID:iD 


21 


know ;  but  the  Comte  de  Gramont  was  once  bidden  by 
Charles  to  observe  that  the  King  of  Eng  land  was  served 
on  bended  knee,  a  mark  of  respect  not:  usual  at  other 
Courts.  "  Oh,  is  that  the  reason  ?  I  thought  they  were 
begging  your  Majesty's  pardon  for  giving  you  such  a  bad 

dinner." 

Lady  Fanshawe  charmingly  depicts  Jersey  at  this  time : 
"There  are  many  gentlemen's  houses,  ai:  which  we  were 
entertained;  they  have  fine  walks  alon|f  to  their  doors, 
double  elms  or  oaks,  which  is  extremely  pleasant,  and 
their  ordinary  highways  are  good  walks  by  reason  of  the 
shadow.  The  whole  place  is  gi  ss,  ex:ept  some  small 
parcels  where  corn  is  grown.  The  chiefest  employment 
is  knitting ;  they  neither  speak  English  nor  good  French  ; 
they  are  a  cheerful,  good-natured  people,  and  truly  subject 
to  the  present  Government." 

The  stay  in  Jersey  was  chiefly  spent  in  intrigues  con- 
cerning the  disposal  and  destination  of  the  Prince. 

Hyde  and  his  supporters  desired  the  Prince  to  stay  in 
Jersey  till  the  King's  fate  was  decided ;  but  the  Queen  was 
earnest  that  her  son  should  come  to  France.  On  20  June, 
departure  to  France  was  resolved  on,  and  henceforward  we 
find  Charles  eager  to  go,  and  Jermyn  anxiously  keeping 
him  away  from  the  soberer  councillors.  "  From  Tuesday 
morning  that  he  first  intended  to  goe,  he  .stayed  with  great 
impatience,  and  would  never  suffer  any  Df  his  attendants 
or  trayne  to  goe  out  of  the  castle,  lest  they  might  be  absent 
in  that  article  of  tyme  when  the  winde  should  serve,  which 
he  resolved  to  lay  hold  of  So  that  nobc'dy  went  to  bedd 
from  that  tyme  till  they  came  into  France,  and  eate  only 
such  meate  as  my  Lady  Cartwright  could  suddanly  pro- 
vide. The  Lords  Capel  and  Hopton  and  the  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer  went  once  a  day  to  cisse  his  handes, 
and  stayed  very  little  tyme,  ther  grownge  every  day  a 
visible  strangenesse  betweene  them  and  the  rest,  in  so 
much  that  they  had  little  speech  together,  and  the  last 
day  none ;  the  other  lords  sittinge  upon  the  rock  of  the 


( 


(  \\ 


22 


CHARLES   II   AND    HIS   COURT 


CHARLES   IN    PARIS 


23 


water  syde,  whilst  they  walked  upon  the  bowling  green 
with  the  Prince,  who  quickly  left  them,  and  they  re- 
turned." On  Thursday,  24  June,  Charles  went  on  board 
the  frigate,  but  was  beaten  back  by  a  contrary  wind  ;  but 
"about  five  of  the  clocke,  the  winde  continuinge  still  con- 
trary, he  resolved  to  try  his  fortune,  and  suddanly  putt  all 
his  company  aboard,  and  himselfe  went  into  his  shalley, 
resolvinge  to  row  over ;  but  within  half  an  hour  after  he 
was  at  sea  the  winde  came  fay  re,  and  blew  a  pretty  gale, 
so  that  he  went  into  the  bigger  vessel,  and  by  eleven  of 
the  clocke  at  night  reached  the  French  shore,  and  lay  at 
anchor  till  daybreak,  and  then  he  landed  with  all  his 
retinue." 

Charles*  fortune  at  sea  was  very  different  to  his 
mother's,  over  whose  mishaps  by  water  her  son  and 
daughter  Henrietta  made  merry  to  each  other  in  after 
years.  The  only  personal  memento  of  the  Prince's  visit 
to  Jersey  is  a  single  riding-boot,  kept  in  the  armoury  of 
Elizabeth  Castle  ;  it  is  suited  for  "  a  boy  of  sixteen,  and 
made  of  coarse  leather,  thick-soled,  with  a  heel  made  up 
of  many  pieces." 

On  the  morning  of  Friday,  26  June,  Charles  landed 
at  Cotainville,  whence  he  proceeded  to  Paris,  and  after- 
wards to  St.  Germains.  His  reception  in  France  was  cool 
and  formal.  "The  French  allow  the  Prince  nothing  of 
their  great  promises ;  and  I  think  the  Corte  wish  themselves 
at  Jarsey  agayne."  Later,  Charles  Murray  writes  to  Hyde 
from  Fontainebleau :  "  The  Prince  hath  been  at  Fontaine- 
bleau,  and,  truly,  received  as  civilly,  and  with  as  much 
respect  as  could  be ;  being  met  two  leagues  on  the  way  by 
the  King  and  Queen  Regent ;  and  they  all  alighted,  and 
saluting,  were  taken  into  the  Queen  Regent's  coaoh,  the 
Prince  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  the  same  side  of  the 
Coach  as  the  King  .  .  .  the  Prince  behaved  himself  in 
the  journey  so  handsomely,  that  he  has  gotten  the  love 
of  all  that  have  seen  him,  lx)th  men  and  women.  Yet 
though  his  entertainment  has  been  noble  and  kind  here, 


I  do  not  find  any  thing  offered,  either  by  present,  or 
addition  to  the  Queen's  exhibition,  for  liis  subsistence." 
While  in  Paris,  Charles  read  with  good  Er.  Earle  an  hour 
a  day,  and  appeared  to  be  of  "a  sweetness  of  nature  not 
easy  to  be  corrupted."  Unfortunately,  thrctugh  the  manner 
of  life  forced  on  him  by  circumstances,  b}^  the  careful  ill- 
training  of  Mrs.  Wyndham,  his  nature  had  already  become 
corrupted  ;  and  now  Buckingham  came  on  the  scene,  to 
extend  and  complete  the  corruption,  aideci  by  Lord  Percy, 
and,  if  we  may  believe  Burnet,  by  Hobl^es,  the  Prince's 
mathematical  teacher.  Burnet  exaggerate  is  Buckingham's 
evil  influence,  and  the  Duke  left  St.  Germains  in  1648,  to 
take  part  in  Lord  Holland's  futile  rising  at  Reigate ;  but 
he  undoubtedly  exerted  a  strange  sway  o^'er  his  old  friend, 
till  the  end  of  Charles'  life,  a  sway  almost  impossible  to 
account  for,  since  Charles  saw  through  Buckingham  every 
whit  as  well  as  Dry  den  ;  let  us  assume  that  the  influence 
was  due  to  mutual  affection  :  for  we  have  proof  from  the 
Duke's  letters  that  the  feeling  was  genuine  on  his  side  at 
least. 

In  whatever  excesses  the  Prince  at  present  indulged, 
he  was  outwardly  religious,  even  arousini^  Anglican  fears 
by  going  to  Charenton,  the  headquarters  of  Presby- 
terianism.  The  Queen,  too,  kept  him  entirely  in  subjec- 
tion, made  him  dependent  on  Jermyn  for  pocket-money, 
and  caused  English  company  to  be  as  far  removed  from 
him  as  possible.  "  Now  the  English  wer  j  kept  at  a  great 
distance,  while  the  French  were  as  familiar  with  him  as 
could  be  imagined."  The  Prince  had  little  or  no  share  in 
business;  he  dared  not  come  into  his  mother's  presence 
uncovered. 

In  appearance  Mme.  de  Motteville  describes  Charles  at 
this  time  as  "very  well  made;  his  swarthy  complexion 
agreed  well  with  his  large  bright  eyes  his  mouth  was 
exceedingly  ugly,  his  figure  extremely  fine.  He  was  very 
tall  for  his  age,  and  carried  himself  with  grace  and  dignity. 
His  natural  tendency  to  wit  and  repartee  was  not  noticed, 


24 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


ESCAPE   OF   PRINCE  JAMES 


25 


for  at  that  time  he  hesitated  and  even  stammered,  a 
defect  observed  in  his  father  and  still  worse  in  his  uncle 
Louis  XIII."  In  later  years  this  stammering  was  apt 
to  overwhelm  Charles  in  his  rare  moments  of  embarrass- 
ment, as  in  reading  speeches  in  Parliament  at  awkward 
crises. 

Mile,   de   Montpensier,    daughter  of   Gaston,   Due    d' 
Orleans  and    cousin    of    Louis   XIV,   was    selected    by 
Henrietta  Maria  as  a  fitting  wife  for  Prince  Charies  ;   and 
while  objecting  to  the  match  and  to  Henrietta's  methods, 
the  lady  condescends  to  say  of  her  royal  suitor :  "  He  is 
tall  for  his  age,  with  a  beautiful  head,  black  hair,  a  swarthy 
complexion,   and  a  tolerable  figure."     In  spite  of    Hen- 
rietta's frantic  exertions,;perfunctorily  and  sulkily  seconded 
by  the  Prince  of  Wales,  the  wooing   made  no  progress, 
owing  to  Charies'  lack  of  sincerity  and  consequent  fain^ant- 
ism,  and  also  to  Mademoiselle's  exacting  nature.     Made- 
moiselle herself  was  tall  and  graceful,  blue  eyed  and  flaxen 
haired,  with  the  aquiline  Bourbon  nose,  and  a  lovely  mouth. 
She  was  too  vivacious  and  touchy  to  maintain  her  dignity 
in  moments  of  stress,  and  she  was  inordinately  conceited, 
and  like  all  her  house,  "  fort  appliqude  aux  bagatelles,"  a 
description  which  with  dramatic  irony  she  afterwards  applied 
to  Charles.     The  autumn  and  winter  of  1646-47  were  filled 
with  a  succession  of  balls,  plays,  and  masques,  at  which  the 
Prince  appeared  in  Mademoiselle's  colours  of  black,  white 
and  red,  handed  her  to  and  from  her  coach,  held  a  torch  at 
her  toilette,  and  followed  her  like  a  spaniel— but  spoke  not 
a  word,  leaving  conversation  and  pretty  speeches  to  Prince 
Rupert.     About   February,   Mademoiselle   conceived   the 
idea  of  marrying  the  Emperor,  and   Charies  transferred 
his  attentions  to  the   Duchesse  de  Chastillon.     In  Sep- 
tember, 1647,  Mme.  de  Motteville  reports  that  "  Pity  and 
tenderness  for  his  misfortunes  added  lustre   to  his  good 
qualities;    he    is   improved   in   appearance,   displays    no 
brilliancy  of  wit ;  is  reserved,  and  far  from  fluent  in  enuncia- 
tion."   By  this,  Charies  had  tired  of  Court  life,  and  wished 


to  join  the  French  army  in  Flanders  ;  but  !V[azarin  checked 
the  idea  on  the  ground  that  it  was  beneath  the  dignity  of 
England's  heir  to  serve  in  a  foreign  army :  his  real  object 
being  to  keep  Charies  a  semi-prisoner  of  State. 

Affairs  in  Britain  were  at  a  new  crisis.  Scotland  was 
divided  into  Covenanters  and  Engagers,  or  those  for 
Covenant  and  King,  and  those  for  King  and  Covenant. 
After  various  intrigues,  Charles  accepted  the  invitation  of 
the  Engaging  majority  in  the  Scotch  Parliament  to  come 
to  Scotland.  He  therefore  left  St.  Germains  with  Rupert, 
Culpeper,  and  Hopton,  on  25  June,  1648,  intending  to  join 
Hamilton,  the  Engagers'  leader;  but  nows  of  Royalist 
risings  in  the  south  and  south-east  of  Eng  land,  and  of  the 
revolt  of  part  of  the  fleet,  took  him  to  Holland.  He 
arrived  at  Helvoetsluys  on  9  July.  Here  he  found  the 
revolted  fleet,  with  his  brother  James  in  nominal  command, 
in  utter  disorder.  He  restored  some  semblance  of  disci- 
pline, and,  putting  James  ashore,  set  sail  on  17  July. 

Before  we  follow  the  Prince  of  Wales  farther,  it  is  worth 
while  to  see  how  James  of  York  came  to  be  on  board  the 
new  Royalist  fleet ;  for  he  had  been  captured  in  Oxford 
by  Fairfax  in  June,  1646.  Early  in  Apiil,  1648,  Colonel 
Charles  Bampfylde  gained  access  to  James,  measured  his 
height  and  his  waist  with  a  ribbon,  and  gave  the  measure- 
ments to  Anne  Murray,  daughter  of  the  King's  old  tutor. 
She  went  to  a  City  tailor,  and  got  some  lady's  clothes 
made  "  of  a  mixed  mohaire  of  a  light  colour  and  black, 
and  y«  under  petticoate  of  scarlet,"  after  some  surprise  on 
the  tailor's  part  as  to  the  relative  length  and  girth  of  the 
required  garments.  Meanwhile  the  Duke  had  been  told  to 
play  often  at  hide-and-seek  with  his  brother  Henry  and 
his  sister  Elizabeth,  so  that  he  might  be  often  missed  for 
half  an  hour  or  so  without  causing  his  guards  any  alarm. 
On  20  April  he  sent  for  the  gardener  ar  d  asked  him  for 
his  key  of  the  garden-gate,  saying  that  his  own  was 
broken.  After  supper  he  called  his  broiher  and  sister  to 
their  game,  locked  his  dog  into  his  sister's  room,  lest  it 


i 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 

should  follow  and  betray  him,  locked  the  balcony  door 
and  threw  away  the  key,  and  then  went  downstairs.     On 
the  way  his  foot  slipped,  and,  fearing  discovery,  he  ran  to 
his  own  room,  took  up  a  book,  and  pretended  to  read. 
All  was  quiet,  and  he   soon  made  his  way  downstairs, 
through  the  garden,  and  into  the  park,  treble  locking  all 
the  doors.    At  the  last  gate  Bampfylde  awaited  him  with 
a  cloak  and  wig,  which  the  Duke  put  on,  and  "  they  hied  to 
Spring  Gardens  as  gallants  come  to  heare  the  nightingale." 
On  the  other  side  of  the  gardens  they  entered  a  coach, 
drove  to  the  river,  took  barge  and  rowed  down  stream  to  a 
house  where  Anne  Murray  and  her  maid  awaited  them. 
James  was  quickly  dressed  in  his  disguise,  had  a  meal,  and 
went  away  with  a  "  woodstreet  cake,  which,"  says  Anne, 
"  I  knew  he  loved."     They  had  not  gone  far  in  the  boat 
when   the  boy   laid   his   leg  upon  the  cabin  table  "and 
plucked  up  his  stocking  in  so  unwomanish  ^  manner,"  that 
the  bargemaster's   suspicions   were   aroused,  and  he  was 
hardly  persuaded  to  take  them  to  Gravesend  ;  even  then 
the  wind  was  so  violently  contrary  that  the  Colonel  wished 
to  turn  back.     But  the  Duke  cried,  "  Doe  any  thinge  with 
mee,  rather  than  lett  me  go  back  againe,"  and  at  last  they 
reached  the  Dutch  vessel  that  lay  waiting  for  them,  and  in 
her  they  finally  reached  Middelburgh  on  Sunday,  22  April. 
Charles  sailed  to  Yarmouth,  and  a  little  later  Lauder- 
dale arrived  at  the  Downs,   with  instructions   from  the 
Committee  of  Estates.     On   i6  August,  Charles  yielded 
to  the  Engagers'  terms.     But  soon  came  the  news  of  their 
defeat  at  Preston,  and  of  the  fall  of  Colchester ;  so  that 
the  Prince  recommended  Lauderdale  to  go   to  Holland, 
whither  he  would  follow  with  the   fleet.     But  after  vain 
endeavours  to  persuade  the  sailors  to  return  to  Holland, 
Charles  was  compelled  to  stand  to   Warwick's   fleet   on 
29  August,  in  Lee  Road.     The  fight  was  prevented  by 
a  storm,  and  there  being  now  but  one  butt  of  beer  and  no 
water  in  all  the  fleet,  the  sailors  gave  way,  and  on  3  Sep- 
tember Charles  anchored  at  Goree ;  Warwick  followed,  but 


PARIS  IN  THE  FRONDE 


27 


tl 


■J 


CHARLES   I 

AFTER   THE    PAINTING    BY   VANDYCK    AT    WINDSOR 


the  States  ordered  Van  Tromp  to  anctior  between  the 
fleets  and  prevent  hostilities.  On  the  daj-  of  the  expected 
battle,  "  the  Prince  behaved  himself  with  as  much  gallantry 
and  courage  in  this  businesse  as  ever  yo  x  saw  :  when  his 
Lords  and  all  his  seamen  came  to  desire  him  to  go  down 
into  the  hold  under  the  decks,  he  would  r  ot  hear  of  it,  and 
desired  them  not  to  speak  of  it  any  more."  After  further 
negotiations  with  Scotland,  during  which  the  Prince  of 
Wales  had  a  sharp  attack  of  small-pcx,  Scotland  was 
abandoned  for  the  time,  by  Hyde's  raanagement,  and 
Ireland  thought  of,  whither  the  Queen  wished  to  accom- 
pany her  son. 

Paris  at  this  time  was  oppressed  b)'  a  severe  winter, 
and  the  turmoils  of  the  Fronde  ;  and  Henrietta  found 
herself  often  without  a  fire,  "or  a  sou  to  i^et  a  dinner  or  a 
gown,"  insomuch  that  when  visited  by  Gilles  de  Retz, 
Coadjutor- Archbishop  of  Paris,  she  was  found  sitting  by 
her  little  daughter's  bedside,  not  suffering  her  to  get  up 
owing  to  the  cold.  The  Coadjutor  assisted  the  Queen, 
even  as  he  afterwards  helped  Charles  himself^  The  Prince 
of  Wales  now  reduced  his  household  and  took  up  winter 
quarters  at  Breda  as  the  guest  of  his  brother-in-law,  the 
Prince  of  Orange.  At  this  time,  Charles  received  three 
letters  from  his  father,  dealing  with  t\e  Isle  of  Wight 
treaty;  on  13  January,  1649,  he  learnt  his  father's  ex- 
tremity of  danger  ;  on  14  January,  he  appealed  person- 
ally to  the  States,  and  together  with  their  remonstrance 
sent  a  blank  sheet  of  paper  signed  with  his  name,  to  the 
Parliament,  on  which  might  be  written  the  conditions  of 
the  King's  life.  On  the  i8th  he  appeahd  to  Louis  XIV 
and  to  Mazarin.  On  5  February,  Dr.  Gough,  his  chaplain, 
addressed  him  as  "your  Majesty."  ('harles  burst  into 
tears,  and  rushing  into  his  bedroom  wept  alone, 

Charles  was  truly  and  deeply  affect  ;d  by  his  father's 
death,  but  not  with  that  unspeakable  horror  and  frenzy  of 
grief  which  struck  the  King's  old  friends  and  councillors. 

*  And  was  in  his  turn  helped  by  Charles  after  the  Restoration. 


il- 


28 


CHARLES   II    AND    HIS   COURT 


I 


For  them  it  was  not  only  murder,  but  parricide,  not  only 
treason,  but  deadly  sin  and  sacrilege,  and  in  their  eyes  no 
acts  of  retaliation  were  unjustifiable,  as  the  subsequent 
open  murders  of  Dorislaus  at  the  Hague  and  of  Ascham  in 
Madrid  sufficiently  show,  as  also  the  plots  against  Crom- 
well's life,  to  which  the  best  and  wisest  Cavaliers  lent 
countenance,  the  King  only,  be  it  remembered,  remaining 
ignorant  of,  or  disapproving,  them. 


I 


\ 


CHAPTER   II 
1649-51 


»» 


"The  sweet  fruition  of  an  earthly  crown.' 

Marlowe,  Tamburlaine. 


Charles  proclaimed  in  Scotland — Montros 
Palatine — Embassy  to  Spain — Death  of  Dorisl 
pensier — Her  opinion  of  Charles  and  James — Ch 
Privations  of  the  Court — Return  to  France — The 
"  Pomme  d'Or  "—At  Breda— Treaty  of  Breda- 
— Charles  goes  to  Scotland — His  treatment — Se 
King  and  Dean  King — Battle  of  Dunbar — Ch 
ment  in  Scotland — The  King  marches  to  Engla 
cester — Battle  of  Worcester  and  defeat  of  the  Ki 
escape.    I 


e — Sophia,  Princess 
lus — Mile,  de  Mont- 
irles  goes  to  Jersey— 
King  at  Ghent — The 
-Death  of  Montrose 
cret  interview  of  the 
arles'  good  manage- 
nd — Arrives  at  Wor- 
ng — Traditions  of  his 


CHARLES,  with  the  advice  and  co-operation  of 
Hyde,  elected  his  Council  from  the  late  King's 
friends,  the  only  member  of  the  Paris  Party 
being  Long,  the  King's  secretary.  Ireland,  Scotland,  and 
England  were  the  possible  fields  of  action  ;  and  Hyde's 
party  inclined  to  Ireland,  the  King  and  his  mother  also 
approving  that  course.  On  7  February,  Charles  was 
proclaimed  King  in  Edinburgh,  but  the  Scots  soon  made  it 
clear  that  the  proclamation  would  be  an  c:mpty  form,  unless 
the  King  would  subscribe  the  Covenimt  But  this  he 
would  not  do.  Not  only  had  he  Ireland  on  which  to  fall 
back,  but  also  the  pure  Royalist  Scots,  Napier,  Sinclair,  and 
Montrose,  and  the  Engager  Scots,  Hamilton  and  Lauder- 
dale. On  the  Commissioners*  arrival  at  1  he  Hague,  Charles 
was  too  occupied  with  his  Easter  devotions  to  receive 
them,  but  on  11  April  they  obtained  e.n  audience.    The 


A 


f^. 


30 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


f.    ji". 

If 


f 


King  temporized,  and  conferred  constantly  with  Montrose 
and  Hamilton ;  and  on  19  May  he  replied  that  he  would 
accept  the  Covenant— for  Scotland  only.  Nevertheless, 
he  had  produced  a  very  good  impression,  even  on 
Baillie  the  Kirk's  representative ;  "  His  Majesty  is  of  a 
very  sweet  and  courteous  disposition  ;  it  is  all  the  pities 
in  the  world  but  he  were  in  good  company.  ...  It  is 
verily  a  great  pity  of  the  King  ;  he  is  one  of  the  most 
gentle,  innocent,  well-inclined  Princes,  so  far  as  yet  appears, 
that  lives  in  the  world  ;  a  trimme  person  and  of  a  manly 
carriage,  understands  pretty  well,  speaks  not  much.  .  .  . 
It  were  a  thousand  pities  that  so  sweet  a  man  should 
not  be  at  one  with  all  his  people." 

The  one  true  and  pure  fi^^ure  among  all  the  tortuous 
intrigues  of  these  times  is  James  Graham,  Marquis  of 
Montrose,  for  ever  enshrined  in  the  hearts  of  all  true 
Cavaliers.  Never,  save  from  his  bitter  foes  the  Cove- 
nanters, rendered  all  the  more  venomous  by  the  knowledge 
that  they  lied,  has  a  breath  tarnished  his  fair  fame  ;  but  he 
passes,  a  splendid  and  a  mournful  figure,  across  our  sight ; 
then,  as  now,  he  drew  admiration  from  all,  affection  from 
many,  and  a  passionate  adoration  from  a  few.  His 
weakness  lay  in  the  fact  that  he  was  a  very  perfect  gentle 
knight,  a  hopelessly  chivalrous  soul  in  an  age  when 
chivalry  was  dead,  at  least  in  the  narrower  and  more 
romantic  sense  of  the  term.  A  soldier,  a  scholar,  a  poet ; 
and  more  than  all  else,  a  leader  of  men,  rather  by  his 
wonderful  fascination  and  utter  loftiness  of  soul,  than  by 
skill  or  mere  will-power.  Among  his  worshippers  was 
Sophia,  Princess  Palatine,  to  whom  Charles  at  this  time 
paid  desultory  love.  The  King,  however,  won  in  the  end 
only  passionate  scorn  from  his  fair  cousin,  for  his  desertion 
of  the  great  Marquis,  and  if  he  really  had  no  greater 
esteem  for  her  than  a  remark  would  seem  to  indicate, 
Sophia  was  fortunate  in  not  yielding  to  her  mother's 
entreaties  not  to  reject  so  good  an  alliance.  For  Charles 
thought  to  compliment  her,  or  perhaps  indicate  that  his 


JAMKS   GRAHAM,    MAR(,)UIS  OF   MONTROSE 

AFTER   THE   I'AINTfNG    »V   HOVHKAKEN 


i 


M 


i 


V 


»f 


SECOND   VISIT   TO   FRANCE 


31 


wooing  was  at  an  end,  by  saying  that  she  was  handsomer 
than  his  mistress,  Mrs.  Barlow.  When  tlie  King  next 
wished  for  a  walk  with  the  Princess,  she  refused  on  the 
ground  of  a  corn  on  her  foot.  Hyde  speaks  of  the  King 
at  this  time  as  "hopeful  for  virtue  and  judgment  as  you 
can  expect  from  one  of  his  years  and  education." 

At  this  critical  time,  Hyde  and  Lord  Cottington  were 
sent  on  an  embassy  to  Spain,  ostensibly  l:o  secure  help 
and  money,  in  reality,  perhaps,  to  get  rid  o"  the  Chancel- 
lor's unwavering  opposition  to  any  Scotch  advances.  At 
least,  the  Scots  had  a  better  day  of  it  in  council  than  ever 
before,  after  Hyde's  departure.  Charles  was  now  in  great 
straits  for  lack  of  funds  to  organize  an  expedition,  and 
even  for  the  most  ordinary  expenses.  "  He  has  not  enough 
to  maintain  his  family  there  one  day  ;  and  there  are  few 
among  his  followers  who  can  maintain  themselves  in  the 
most  private  way ;  he  is  furnished  with  blacks,  and  other 
mournful  emblems  of  his  fathers  death,  besides  all  things 
necessary  for  his  support,  by  the  bounty  of  the  Prince  of 
Orange."  The  murder  of  Dorislaus,  envoy  of  the  Parlia- 
ment, in  a  tavern,  and  certain  other  reasons,  hastened  the 
King's  departure  from  Holland,  and  he  ivent  in  June^ 
cursing  the  Dutch,  to  Brussels ;  here  he  was  civilly  used 
by  the  Spaniards,  but  failed,  like  his  ambassadors  at 
Madrid,  to  raise  money.  From  Brussels,  he  passed  by 
Valenciennes  and  P^ronne  to  Compi^gntj,  where  the 
French  Court  lay. 

Mile,  de  Montpensier  had  for  some  time  past  been 
hard  pressed  by  her  own  and  Charles'  relations  to  accept 
him  as  her  husband.  Never  really  willing  to  do  this,  she 
appealed  to  the  difference  in  religion  as  a  last  resource. 
Nevertheless,  when  Charles  approached  C3mpi^gne,  she 
dressed  carefully  and  accompanied  the  (^^ourt  in  their 
coaches  to  the  forest  beyond  the  town,  to  raeet  her  royal 
suitor.  "After  proceeding  for  about  a  league  further  on 
the  road,  we  saw  carriages  advancing  in  the  opposite 
direction,  and  when  they  met,  we  all  alight<;d.     The  King 


■I  * 


fl 


32 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS  COURT 


of  England  immediately  came  forward,  and  kissed  his 
aunt's  hand  and  his  cousin's,  who  both  greeted  him  with 
all  marks  of  regard  and  affection,  due  to  so  near  and 
illustrious  a  relative.  He  then  saluted  me,  and  I  could 
not  help  observing  that  he  had  very  much  improved  in 
person  since  his  former  visit  to  France.  I  verily  believe, 
that  if  his  wit  and  intelligence  had  been  equal  to  his 
personal  grace,  I  might  at  that  time  have  been  captivated 
by  him.  But,  all  the  way  back  to  Compi^gne,  he  talked 
of  nothing  but  dogs  and  horses,  with  the  King,  speaking 
in  French  of  the  field  sports  he  had  been  amusing  himself 
with  in  Holland,  but,  when  the  Queen  attempted  to  engage 
him  in  conversation  on  other  subjects,  he  was  dumb  ;  and 
when  she  pressed  him  for  an  opinion  relative  to  public 
affairs,  with  which  he  ought  to  have  been  conversant,  he 
excused  himself  from  answering  on  the  plea  that  he  could 
not  express  himself  fluently  in  our  language.  From  that 
moment  I  resolved  not  to  conclude  the  marriage,  con- 
ceiving a  very  bad  opinion  of  a  King  who,  at  his  age,  did 
not  interest  himself  in  his  own  affairs.  At  dinner  the 
King  threw  himself  upon  an  enormous  piece  of  beef, 
and  a  shoulder  of  mutton,  as  if  there  had  been  nothing 
else.  His  taste  did  not  appear  to  me  delicate,  and  I  was 
ashamed.**  After  dinner,  the  pair  were  left  alone,  but 
Charles  was  absolutely  dumb,  until  Mademoiselle,  in  angry 
despair,  called  in  M.  de  Comminges,  when  he  talked  fast 
and  well.  Finally,  Mademoiselle  persuaded  Charles  to  say 
a  little  about  her  English  friends,  but  he  refused  to  make 
pretty  speeches.  After  bidding  adieu  to  the  King  and 
Queen,  Charles  said  to  Mademoiselle,  "  I  believe  that  M. 
Jermyn,  who  speaks  better  than  I  do,  has  explained  to 
you  my  intentions  and  desires.  I  am  your  very  obedient 
servant."  To  which  Mademoiselle  replied,  "I  am  your 
very  obedient  servant."  Lord  Jermyn  paid  all  the  neces- 
sary compliments,  the  King  bowed  and  departed  to  St. 
Germains.  If  Mademoiselle  had  become  Queen  of  England 
she  would  undoubtedly  have  been  an  even  greater  intriguer 


CHARLES'   INDEPENDENCE 


33 


and  broil-maker  than  her  aunt  Henrietta,  but  this  might 
have  had  either  of  two  effects :  an  earlier  e  xpulsion  of  the 
Stuarts,  or  the  effectual  awakening  of  Charles,  and  a  con- 
sequent amelioration  of  government.  For  Charles  would 
not  have  married  Mademoiselle  for  love,  ind  she  would 
therefore  have  possessed  little  influence  over  him. 

With  his  mother  at  St.  Germains,  Char  es  was  equally 
reserved,  and  plainly  showed  that  she  must  not  expect  to 
rule  the  King  as  she  had  ruled  the  Prince  Df  Wales,  or  to 
take  an  active  part  in  business.  "  He  made  no  apologies 
to  her,  nor  any  professions  of  resigning  himself  to  her 
advice.  ...  he  did  as  good  as  desire  her  lot  to  trouble 
herself  in  his  affairs ;  and  finding  her  pass  ons  strong,  he 
frequently  retired  from  her  with  some  abruptness." 
Charles  was  accompanied  to  St.  Germains  by  Lucy 
Walters,  alias  Mrs.  Barlow,  but  we  are  not  told  whether 
this  affected  Mademoiselle,  though  she  does  say  that  in  a 
second  interview,  Charles  remarked  that  on  marriage  he 
would  give  up  all  irregular  connections — a  siigular  whim  in 
which  he  seems  to  have  believed  before  his  actual  marriage 
with  Catherine.^  This  interview  took  plac^  when  Made- 
moiselle went  to  the  convent  of  S.  Dominique  at  Poissy. 
James  of  York,  whom  she  preferred  to  Charles,  escorted 
her,  but  Charles  and  Henrietta  insisted  on  joining  the 
party.  Mademoiselle  says  of  James :  "  He  was  then  a  young 
Prince  of  thirteen  or  fourteen  years,  very  pretty,  with  good 
features,  fair,  who  spoke  French  well,  which  gave  him  a 
much  better  air  than  had  the  King  his  brother,  for,  to  my 
mind,  nothing  so  disfigures  a  man  as  inability  to  talk,** — 
and  compliment  me.  Mademoiselle  might  have  added. 

The  remainder  of  the  time  which  Charles  spent  in 
France  was  spent  chiefly  in  disagreements  with  his 
mother,  and  factious  contests  between  their  respective 
supporters.  Tom  Elliot,  Groom  of  the  Bed-chamber,  had 
come  from  England  to  the  Hague,  after  Hyde's  departure, 

^  Charles  once  said,  "  If  ever  he  could  be  guilty  of  keep  ing  a  mistress  after 
he  had  a  wife,  she  should  never  come  where  his  wife  was." 
D 


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34 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS  COURT 


and  been  welcomed  by  the  King,  though  previously 
removed  from  about  his  person,  in  1645,  by  order  of 
Charles  I.  Being  married  to  a  daughter  of  Mrs.  Wynd- 
ham,  he  persuaded  the  King  to  make  Colonel  Wyndham 
Secretary  of  State.  Hyde  and  Cottington,  on  their  way 
to  Spain,  came  to  Paris  at  this  juncture,  and  strove  to 
prevent  the  foolish  appointment.  Cottington  at  length 
came  into  the  presence-chamber,  and  begged  that  an  old 
falconer  of  the  late  King's  might  be  favoured  :  "  It  is  true 
that  your  Majesty  keeps  no  falcons,  and  the  poor  man  is 
grown  so  old  and  cannot  ride  as  he  used  to  do  ;  but  he  is 
a  very  honest  man,  and  can  read  very  well,  and  has  as 
audible  a  voice  as  a  man  need  have,  wherefore  I  beseech 
your  Majesty  to  make  him  your  chaplain.  ...  I  do  assure 
your  Majesty  the  falconer  is,  in  all  respects,  as  fit  to  be 
your  chaplain  as  is  Colonel  Wyndham  to  be  Secretary  of 
State."  Under  the  instant  laughter  of  the  Court,  in  fear 
of  subsequent  ridicule,  Charles  gave  up  the  project.  On 
12  September,  the  King  left  St.  Germains  for  Jersey, 
went  through  Normandy  with  sixty  horses  and  six  six- 
horse  coaches,  visited  Lady  Ormonde  at  Caen,  went  on 
the  i6th  to  Coutances  and  lodged  with  the  Bishop  :  the 
jovial  prelate  accompanied  the  King  on  the  next  day  to 
Cotainville,  and  provided  a  banquet  with  music,  in  his 
honour;  for  this,  however,  boat  and  wind  being  ready, 
Charles  and  his  train  could  not  stay,  and  on  Monday  the 
17th  the  King  embarked  on  his  pinnace  and,  steering  it 
himself,  reached  Jersey  at  four  o'clock,  with  four  and  a  half 
livres  in  his  pocket,  out  of  the  300  pistoles  with  which 
he  had  left  St.  Germains.  Chevalier,  who  saw  the  King 
land,  describes  him  as  **  about  nineteen  years  old,  of 
middle  stature,  well  formed,  and  graceful ;  features  sedate, 
but  plccLsant ;  complexion  sallow  ;  hair  dark  brown,  inclining 
somewhat  to  black.  Demeanour  dignified ;  affable  in 
discourse.  His  dress  purple,  with  a  silver  star  on  the  left 
side  of  the  cloak  ;  a  purple  scarf  or  ribbon  across  the  chest 
and  a  garter  of  the  same  colour,  with  the  ends   hanging 


POVERTY  OF  THE   KI^  G  35 

down  behind  the  leg,  round  the  left  knee.     The  housings 
of  his  horse  and  holster-coverings  of  plain  purple  stuff. 
The  Duke  of  York  in  his  sixteenth  year,  tall  and  slight, 
lively  and  pleasant ;  in  a  black  suit  with  a  silver  star  on 
his  mantle,  with  purple  scarf  across  his  shoulder."     He 
also  describes  the  landing  of  the  Duke  o(  Buckingham 
from  the  Normandy  packet,  18  January,  1650:  "He  was 
a    handsome   youth,   of  lofty  stature,   dressed   in   black, 
wearing  the   silver  star  on  the  left  breasi,  purple  garter 
round  the  left  leg,  in  all  respects  like  the  King  and  Duke 
of  York,  but   that  he  wore   no   purple   s:arf  across   his 
shoulder."    The  King  at  first  spent  his  dnys  in  hunting, 
shooting,  and  yachting,  to  the  great  distress  of  his  followers! 
This  idleness  was  fostered  by  Mrs.  Wynd  lam,  who  soon 
arrived  and  "governed  the  King  and  everyone  else  like  a 
minister  of  state":  and  Lord  Byron  says  en  12  October: 
"  I  find  that  his  stay  here  hath  been  so  far  from  enabling 
him  in  any  way,  that  it  hath  rather  extreinely  increased 
his  necessities,  and  that  foreign  princes  begi  n  to  look  upon 
him  as  a  person  so  lazy  and  careless  in  his  own  business 
that    they   think    it   not   safe,   by   contributing    to   their 
assistance,  to  irritate  so  potent  enemies  as  they  fear  his 
rebellious   subjects   are  like  to  prove."     Ke  must   go  to 
Ireland,  and  "not  be  taken  here  in  a  nook  of  the  world 
with  his  hands  in  his  pocket."     On  30  November,  Charles 
knew  from  Ormonde  that  Ireland  was  lost ;  and  soon  Sir 
George  Winram  and  Silas  Titus  arrived  in  J  ersey,  bringing 
new  overtures  from  the  Scots.     "Now  is  the  time,"  wrote 
Winram,  "to  pray  that   God  the  Lord  w  11  prevent  the 
King  with  his  tender  mercies,  for  indeed  he  is  broght  verie 
low.     He  has  not  bread  both  for  himself  and  his  servants, 
and  betwixt  him  and  his  brother  not  one  English  shilling  ; 
and  wurse,  if  I   durst  write  it,  ...  I  am   confident  no 
mgenuous  spirit  will  take  advantage  of  his  necessity es 
soe  that  his  case  is  very  deplorable,  being  ii  prison  where 
he  is,  living  in  penurie,  surrounded  by  his  enemies,  and  not 
able  to  live  anywhere  else  in  the  world  unless  he  would 


\i 


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36 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


come  to  Scotland  by  giving  them  satisfaction  to  their  just 
demandis.  Yet  his  pernicious  and  devilish  council  will 
suffer  him  to  starve  before  they  will  suffer  him  to  take  the 
League  and  Covenant." 

Though  three  of  the  King's  Council  were  firmly  anti- 
Scotch,  though  the  gallants  talked  of  throwing  Winram 
over  a  wall,  though  the  King  apparently  objected  to  the 
Scotch  overtures, — yet  early  in  June,  1650,  it  was  decided  to 
treat  with  the  Scots  on  honourable  terms,  "  without  pre- 
judice to  his  Majesty's  affaires  under  the  Marquis  of 
Ormonde  or  the  Marquis  of  Montrose."  After  this  final 
council  Byron  writes  in  a  different  strain  about  the  King : 
"  I  must  not  omit,  that  during  this  debate,  the  King 
expressed  such  moderate  patience  and  judgement  as  was 
admirable  in  a  person  of  his  years,  and  such  truly  as  I 
little  expected  from  him ;  repressing  by  his  excellent 
temper,  those  heates  and  animosities  amongst  us,  which 
otherwise  would  utterly  have  destroyed  the  busines ;  and 
certainly,  it  is  one  of  the  greatest  curses  God  hath  laid 
upon  his  subjects,  that  they  are  so  long  deprived  of  the 
knowledge,  and  fruits  of  his  vertue  cifcd  goodness  ;  which  I 
never  knew  more  eminent  in  any  young  man."  Before 
leaving  Jersey,  Charles'  clothes  were  "so  spotted  and 
spoiled  that  they  are  not  to  be  seen  out  of  this  island," 
and  Edward  Progers  is  directed  to  get  an  "  embroidered 
sutc  "  a  hatband  and  belt,  and  "  a  plain  riding  sute  with 
an  innocent  coate."  On  13-23  February  the  King  left 
Jersey,  embarking  from  Elizabeth  Castle  at  nine  in  the 
morning,  on  Captain  Amy's  frigate.  James  came  on 
board  to  say  farewell,  and  thrice  embraced  his  brother, 
weeping  bitterly.  At  three  in  the  afternoon,^  Charles 
reached  Cotainville,  where  he  was  met  by  the  Bishop  of 
Coutances,  at  whose  house  he  lay  that  night.  "  Friday 
morning  15  February  (O.S.),  his  Majesty  and  whole 
traine  left  and  lay  that  night  at  St.  Lo ;  the  night 
following  at  Caen,  when  the  Lady  Marquis  of  Ormonde, 

*  Another  account  says  9  p.m.,  24  February. 


iiMi^w*««« 


THE   COURT 


37 


having  a  desire  to  kiss  the  Queen's  hands,  his  Majesty 
was  pleased  to  take  her  and  the  Lady  Isabella  Thynne 
with  him  in   his   owne   Coache,   and   the    next   morning 
passing  from    Caen,  by  reason   of  foule  weather  and  ill 
wayes  came  in  very  late  that  night  to  Lisicux.     The  night 
following  his  Majesty  lay  at  Bliosne,  a  little  Burge  where 
there  was  no  good  accommodation  ;  and  tlie  next  night  at 
Elboeuf,  within   four   leagues   of  Rouen,   upon   the  river 
towards  Pont  I'Arche  where  he  was  treated  by  the  Due  d* 
Elboeuf.     There  hemett  letters  from  the  Queene  signifying 
her  intention  to  be  at  Beauvais  to  meete  liis  Majesty,  the 
Thursday  following.     Soe  the  next  day  eaily,  passing  over 
Ponturch  he  laye  at  Trippneuve  nine  leagues  short  of  this 
towne,  and  the  next  day,  being  Thursday  21   February 
(O.S.)   he  arrived   here  at  Beauvais,  where  her  Majesty 
with    Lord    Jermyn,   &c.,    came   likewise    that    evening, 
according  to  appointment."     King  and  Queen  met  "  with 
great  kindness  on  both  sides,"  but  he  wis  still  reserved 
and  obstinate,  and  at  the  end  of  a  fortniglit  matters  were 
in  the  same  case,  the  Queen  coming  fronr   her  last  inter- 
view with  her  son,  "  very  red  with  anger."     A  Parliament 
spy  writes  of  the  Court  at  Beauvais :  "  I  had  full  satisfac- 
tion from  my  view,  and  so  I  think  any  l3oker-on  would 
have  had,  and  if  these  be  still  the  counsellors  and  this  the 
company,  a  man  that  is  no  witch  may  foretell  the  issue ; 
the    discourses,   councils,   projections,  and   hopes   speake 
such  ridiculous  follies,  and  such  extreame  debauchery  is 
amongst  them,  that  you  will  hardly  believe  the  relation." 
"  5  Martii  (N.S.)  To-morrow  morning  the  Queen  return- 
ing to  Paris,  his  Majesty  intends  to  goe  on  to  Breda,  where 
wee  are  likely  to  be  within  ten  or  eleven  c  ayes.  .  .  .  The 
King,  (God  preserve  him)  is  in  very  good  health,  and  I 
hope  all  will  be  well,  any  thing  to  the  coitrary  notwith- 
standing."    In  view  of  the  impending  Treaty  of  Breda, 
this  is  in  truth  dramatic  irony. 

On   23    March,   Charles    reached    Ghent.     Here    the 
governor  offered  the   castle   as  a   lodging,  but  the   King 


^  i 


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38 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


applied  to  the  burghers,  who  answered  that  there  were 
many  good  inns  :  the  King  went  to  the  "  Golden  Apple," 
but  refused  to  receive  the  magistrates.     They  then  asked 
if  he  would  accept  the  pipe  of  Rhenish  usually  offered  to 
foreign  Princes,  or  a  money  equivalent.     Charles  haughtily 
refused  the   money  ;   the   Rhenish,   however,   came,   and 
under  its  influence  the  Cavaliers  behaved  so  badly  that  the 
citizens  sent  in  a  bill  of  1800  guelders  (£180),  200  being 
charged  for  salt,  vinegar,  and  butter.     King  and  courtiers 
were  almost  penniless  after  paying  this  bill,  and  "could 
we  but  have  sworn  and  cursed  in  Walloon  and  Dutch  as 
well  as  in  English,  the  Flemings  should  have  heard  how  we 
devoted   them    to   the  devil."     On    Saturday,  26   March, 
Charles  arrived  at  Breda.     So  also  did  the  Scots  Com- 
missioners.    On   Tuesday  they  had   an   audience   in  the 
King's  bed-chamber.     The  conditions  involved  taking  the 
Covenant,  establishing  Presbyterianism  in  all  his  realms, 
and  abandoning  Ormonde  and  Montrose.     Pressed  on  all 
sides,  by  some  of  his  own  Council,  by  his  relations,  by 
Christina  of  Sweden,  Charles   "with  great   passion   and 
bitter  execration,"  gave  up  Cavaliers,  Engagers,  and  Irish 
Catholics,  or   in   other  words,  Montrose,    Hamilton,   and 
Ormonde.     On  i    May,  he  signed  the  first  draft  of  the 
treaty,  but  its  terms  were  altered  to  a  louder  and  more 
vigorous    strain    when    the    news    came    of    Montrose's 
capture  at  Corbisdale.     On  2  June,  Charles  embarked  at 
Harslaersdyck  with  Hamilton,  Lauderdale,  Dunfermline, 
Brentford,   Buckingham,   Wilmot,    Henry   Seymour,    Mr. 
Rhodes,    Dr.    Eraser,    and    his    two    chaplains,   having 
previously  received  the  Communion   kneeling,  in  face  of 
Covenanting  opposition.     He  had  already  scandalized  the 
godly  by   "balling  and  dancing"  into  the  small   hours. 
On  the  nth,  he  signed  the  latest  draft,  off  Heligoland, 
swore  to  the  Covenant  outside  the  mouth  of  the  Spey  on 
the  23rd,  without  deceiving  either  himself  or  any  one  else 
as  to  his  intentions  or  sincerity.     He  disgusted  his  most 
faithful   adherents,   alienated    others,   caused  his   mother 


SCOTLAND 


3fw 


horror-stricken   sorrow,   and    killed    his   ;;ister   Elizabeth, 
"  who  hath  wept  daily  ever  since." 

And  there  remain  to  us  the  comments;  of  Jaffray  and 
of  Livingstone:  "We  did  both  sinfully  entangle  and 
engage  the  nation,  ourselves,  and  that  poDr  young  Prince 
to  whom  we  were  sent,  making  him  sijjn  and  swear  a 
covenant  which  we  knew  from  clear  and  demonstrable 
reasons  that  he  hated  in  his  heart ;  yet,  finding  that  upon 
these  terms  only  he  could  be  admitted  to  rule  over  us,  all 
other  means  having  then  failed  him,  he  j  infully  complied 
with  what  we  most  sinfully  pressed  upon  him.  ...  In 
this  he  was  not  so  constant  to  his  principles  as  his  father, 
but  his  strait  and  our  guiltiness  was  the  greater."  So 
Jaffray ;  and  Livingstone  says :  "  It  seecis  to  have  been 
the  guilt  not  of  the  commissioners  only,  l)ut  of  the  whole 
State — yea,  of  the  Church." 

Charles  landed  on  24  June  (O.S.)  1650,  at  Gar- 
mouth,  and  by  the  Bog  o'  Gicht  and  S»trathbogie  went 
to  Aberdeen,^  where  he  was  greeted  by  the  burghers 
loyally  and  enthusiastically,  and  by  the  Parliament  with 
the  hand  of  Montrose  nailed  on  the  town  gate.  On  the 
way  to  Aberdeen,  he  crossed  the  river  Uiy,  and  said  that 
the  scenery  reminded  him  of  his  "dear  England."  At 
St.  Andrews,  Charles  was  presented  with  the  city  keys 
wrought  in  silver,  and  entertained  with  a  long  oration 
"on  the  duties  of  Kings."  On  Saturday,  16  July,  he 
passed  through  Cupar,  where  dessert  was  offered  him  at 
the  Tolbooth,  and  the  schoolmaster  was  appointed  "to 
give  him  a  music  song  or  two  while  h(;  was  at  table." 
That  evening  he  came  to  Falkland.  While  there,  "the 
King's  table  was  well  served,  and  there  he  sat  in  majesty, 
waited  upon  with  decency ;  he  had  good  horses  to  ride 
about  to  take  the  air,  and  was  then  well  attended,  and  in 
all  public  appearances  seemed  to  want  rothing  that  was 

'  An  entry  among  the  King's  expenses  here  :  "  To  gold  and  silver  riband 
and  other  articles  to  the  maiden,  etc.,  129.  0.4.  SzoWs^—'Y^z.^  King  Mon-' 
mouthf  p.  7  ;  Kennedy,  Annals  of  Aberdeen^  i.  227. 


v. 


f 


I 


I 


40  CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 

due  to  a  great  king.  ...  He  could  not  dispose  or  order 
any   thing,   or  himself  go   to  any  other  place  than  was 
assigned  to  him."  .  .  .  "Sentinels  being  set  every  night 
about  his  lodgings,  few  daring  to  speak  freely  or  privately 
to  him,  and  spies  set  upon  liis  words  and  actions,  and  his 
bed-chamber  is  not  free  to  himself,  the  ministers  almost 
daily  thrusting  in  upon  him  to  catechize  and  instruct  him, 
and   I  believe,  to  exact   replies  from   him."     The   King 
"  wrought  himself  into  as  grave  a  deportment  as  he  could, 
heard  many  prayers,  and  sermons,  some  of  a  great  length.* 
I  remember  in  one  day  there  were  six  sermons  preached 
without  intermission.     I  [Gilbert  Burnet]  was  there  myself 
and  not  a  little  weary  of  so  tedious  a  service."  ^    "  He  was 
not  so  much  as  allowed  to  walk  abroad  on  Sundays,  and 
if  he  smiled  on  those  days,  received   a   sharp   reproof." 
There  was,  of  course,  no  dancing,  or  cards,  allowed.     Golf 
was  permitted,  with  a  special  guard  for  the  links.     But 
"m  the  year  1650,  to  the  many  fornications  and  adulteries 
which  he  then  committed,  he  added  the  perpetration  of 
an  attempt  upon  a  modest  and  virtuous  lady,"   and    so 
"incurred  the  general  dissatisfaction  of  his  best  friends." 
Buckingham  has  let  us  into  the  secrets  of  the  unspiritual 
side  of  the    Covenanting   clergy.     "The   Puritans   break 
downe  the  hedges  and  then  bid  the  cattle  not  to  wander. 
.  .  .  They  must  have  a  new  Religion,  and  who  but  the 
Clergy  ?     Who  but  Aaron  to  make  the  calfe  for  'em  ?  .  .  . 
At  dinners  they  lay  as  fiercely  about  'em  as  in  the  Pulpit " 
On    23    July-2    August,  the    King    left    Falkland 
and   went  to    Perth,   where   he    stayed   the    night,    and 
wrote  in  the  City  Book  of  Privileges  :    "  Charles  R.     24 
Julii  1650.    Nemo  me  impune  lacessit."    At  Dunfermline 
Charles  met  Anne  Murray,  the  lady  who  had  helped  his 
brother  to  escape  from  England.     Not  gaining  the  special 
notice  which  she  had  expected  from  the  King,  Anne  was 

>  Even  at  the  start  of  the  voyage  from  Holland.  Livingstone  and  another 
minister  went  on  board  Charles'  ship  in  harbour,  thinking  it  «a  pity  that  the 
Kg.  and  Ld.  Cassilis  should  be  there,  and  none  to  preach  to  them." 


\ 


HUMILIATIONS 


41 


much  distressed  and  persuaded  the  good  old  gentleman 
Richard  Harding  to  speak  to  the  King.     Before  he  left 
the  Earl  of    Dunfermline's  house,   Charl<:s   came   up   to 
Mrs.  Murray  and  said  :  "  Mrs.  Murray,  lam  ashamed  that 
I  have  been  so  long  a-speaking  to  you,  bui:  it  was  because 
I  could  not  say  enough  to  you  for  the  ser/ice  you  did  my 
brother.     But,  if  ever  I  can  command  what  I  have  a  right 
to  as  my  own,  there  shall  be  nothing  in  lay  power  I  will 
not  do  for  you."      From  Dunfermline,  the    King  went  to 
Stirling,  and    was    invited    by  the   Earl  of  Eglinton   to 
visit  the  army.     On  riding  to  the  camp  at  Leith  he  was 
enthusiastically  received  by  the  soldiers.     "  The  next  day 
the  Commissioners  of  the  King  desired  mc  to  retire  out  of 
the  army,  pretending  it  was  for  the  safety  of  my  person, 
but  indeed  it  was  for  feare   I    should  get  too  great  an 
interest  with  the  soldiers."    At  Dunfermline  again,  Charles 
was  "  narrowly  watched  by  the  serious  Christians."     The 
Kirk  next  proceeded  to  expel  as  many  as  possible  of  the 
Engagers  and  Cavaliers  from  the  army,  fil  ing  their  places 
with   "ministers'  sons,  clerks,  and    such   other  sanctified 
creatures,  who  hardly  ever  saw  or  heard  of  any  sword,  but 
that  of  the  Spirit."     This  new  burst  of  insanity  was  then 
directed  against  the  King,  who  was   required  to  sign  a 
declaration  lamenting  his  father's  opposition  to  the  Cove- 
nant, his  mother's  idolatry,  the  sins  of  all  his  house,  and 
his  own  delinquencies.     Until  threatened  with  immediate 
betrayal  to  Cromwell,  Charles  refused  to   sign,  and  then 
only  after  alterations  did  he  affix  his  signature.     This  was 
on   Friday,  18-26  August,   at  Dunfermline;     that    night 
he  rode  to  Perth,  arriving  at  ten.     Here   he  received  a 
messenger  from  Ireland,  Dr.  King,  Dean  oj'  Tuam,  and  at 
one  in  the  morning,  in  his  bed-chamber,  spoke  as  follows  to 
him :  "  Mr.  King,  I  have  received  a  very  good  character  of 
you,  and  I  do  therefore  give  you  assurance  i  that,  however 
I  am  enforced  by  the  necessity  of  my  af'airs  to  appear 
otherwise,  I  am  a  true  child  of  the  Church  of  England,  and 
shall  remain  firm  to  my  first  principles.     Mr.  King,  I  am 


"'I 


: 


I 


1 


42 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS  COURT 


a  true  Cavalier !  ...  Mr.  King,  the  Scots  have  dealt  very 
ill  with  me,  very  ill.  I  understand  you  are  willing  to  go 
into  Ireland.  My  Lord  of  Ormonde  is  a  person  that  I 
depend  upon  more  than  any  one  living.  I  much  fear  that 
I  have  been  forced  to  do  some  things  which  may  much 
prejudice  him.  You  have  heard  how  a  declaration  was 
extorted  from  me,  and  how  I  should  have  been  dealt 
withal  if  I  had  not  signed  it  Yet  what  concerns  Ireland 
is  in  noways  binding,  for  I  can  do  nothing  in  that  kingdom 
without  my  council  there,  nor  what  I  have  done  is  nothing, 
yet  I  fear  it  may  prejudice  my  Lord  of  Ormonde  and  my 
friends  with  him,  so  that  if  you  would  satisfy  him  in  this, 
you  would  do  a  very  acceptable  service  unto  me.  ...  I 
have  endeavoured  to  send  to  my  Lord  of  Ormonde  very 
often,  yet  I  do  not  find  that  he  hath  received  anything 
from  me  since  the  treaty.  I  have  endeavoured  to  the 
utmost  to  preserve  him  and  my  friends  there,  but  I  have 
been  ill-dealt  withal.  .  .  .  For  such  of  the  Irish  as  have 
been  loyal  to  me,  I  will,  by  God's  help,  whatsoever  my 
father  or  I  have  promised  them,  make  good  unto  them. 
...  I  am  resolved  wholly  to  be  governed  in  the  affairs  of 
that  kingdom  by  my  Lord  of  Ormonde.  .  .  .  Tell  them 
that  I  prefer  their  particular  safeties  to  any  interest  of  my 
own  in  that  kingdom,  and  that  I  account  it  not  only  an 
error  but  a  misfortune  that  I  came  not  thither  when  my 
Lord  of  Ormonde  invited  me." 

On  3  September  was  fought  the  battle  of  Dunbar, 
when  Leslie's  strong  position  was  abandoned  at  the 
clamours  of  the  Kirk,  promising  victory  to  themselves  "  in 
as  confident  terms  as  if  God  Himself  had  directed  them  to 
declare  it."  In  one  hour  the  Covenanters  were  utterly 
defeated,  and  Cromwell  held  the  south  of  Scotland.  On 
apocryphal  authority  we  are  told  that  Charles  "  fell  on 
his  knees  and  thanked  God  that  he  was  so  fairly  rid  of  his 
enemies  "  ;  but  he  certainly  wrote  as  follows  to  the  Com- 
mittee of  Estates :  "  We  cannot  but  acknowledge  that  the 
stroake  and  tryal  is  very  hard  to  be  borne,  and  would  be 


FLIGHT  OF  THE   KIN(t 


43 


impossible  for  us  and  you,  in  human  strength  .  .  .  but  in 
the  Lord's  we  are  bold  and  confident.  .  .  Our  ancestors 
had  only  the  honour  and  civil  liberties  of  the  land  to 
defend,  but  we  have  with  you,  religion,  the  gospel,  and  the 
Covenant,  against  which  Hell  shall  not  prevail,  much  less 
a  number  of  sectaries  stirred  up  by  it.  .  .  .  We  shall  strive 
to  be  humbled  that  the  Lord  may  be  appeased,  and  that  He 
may  return  to  the  thousands  of  His  people."  The  ministers 
"now  told  God  Almighty  that  it  was  a  sma'l  thing  to  them 
to  lose  their  lives  and  estates,  but  to  Him  it  was  a  very 
great  loss  to  suffer  His  elect  and  chosen  to  be  destroyed." 
Meanwhile,  the  expelled  members  of  the  e  rmy,  and  other 
malcontents,  were  uniting  for  the  King  agiinst  the  Cove- 
nanters, and  he  decided  to  join  them  at  the  Brigg  of  Erne, 
early  in  October.  Unfortunately  he  told  his  plans  to 
Buckingham,  who  told  Wilmot,  who  toli  Argyle.  In 
spite  of  the  strong  measures  adopted  by  the  Covenanters, 
Charles  resolved  to  escape,  and  on  4-14  October,  dined 
early,  afterwards  strolling  into  the  garden,  where  he 
disputed  half  an  hour  with  Buckingham,  j  nd  finally  went 
out  of  the  gate,  and  with  a  few  gentlemen,  took  horse  and 
rode  towards  Fife  "  without  any  change  of  clothes  or  linens 
more  than  was  on  his  body,  in  a  thin  riding;  suit  of  stuffe." 
He  rode  "at  a  full  career"  to  Lord  Dudhope's  near 
Dundee,  thence  to  Lord  Buchan's,  and  theice  to  the  Earl 
of  Airlie's,  and  finally  to  Clova,  where  he  rested  in  a 
cottage  belonging  to  the  Laird,  and  was  found  by  one  of 
the  officers  sent  in  chase  "  laying  in  a  nastic  roome,  on  ane 
old  bolster,  above  a  matte  of  segges  ani  rushes,  over- 
wearied and  verey  fearfull."  That  night  Charles  slept  at 
Huntly  Castle,  went  to  Perth  next  day  in  answer  to  the 
appealing  letter  of  the  Committee  of  Esta  :es,  and  "  heard 
sermon  in  his  own  Presence  Chamber."  Hereafter,  the 
King  was  given  more  liberty  and  more  voice  in  affairs,  for 
he  had  thoroughly  startled  the  Kirk.  Yet  at  the  end  of 
the  year,  fasts  were  appointed,  and  Charles  had  publicly 
to  bewail  the  sins  of  his  father  and  grandfather ;  and  as  he 


I 


I 


44 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS  COURT 


MARCH   TO   WORCESTER 


said  bitterly  :  "  I  think  I  ought  to  repent  too  that  ever  I 
was  born."  On  i  January,  1657,  Charles  was  crowned, 
behaving  throughout  the  ceremony  "very  seriously  and 
devoutly,  so  that  none  doubted  of  his  ingenuity  and 
sincerity.'*  Henceforth  he  devoted  himself  to  con- 
solidating his  power,  extending  his  influence,  raising  a  new 
army,  and  strengthening  military  posts ;  surprising  every 
one  by  the  wonderful  skill,  tact,  and  energy  which  he 
brought  to  bear  on  his  manifold  and  difficult  tasks.  Crom- 
well himself  said  that  "  the  young  man  is  very  active  and 
intelligent";  and  Sir  Richard  Fanshawe  writes:  "The 
best  is  .  .  .  that  his  Majesty's  judgment  and  activity  both 
in  civil  and  martial  affairs  are  to  a  degree  you  would  not 
imagine  in  so  few  months'  growth  as  he  hath  trod  upon  the 
stage  ;  being  the  first  and  forwardest  upon  every  occasion 
in  either  kind,  and  adventuring  his  person — I  pray  God 
not  too  much — upon  every  show  of  danger,  riding  con- 
tinually and  being  up  early  and  late  ;  with  which  never- 
theless his  health  is  not  abated,  but,  on  the  contrary,  both 
that  and  his  Majesty's  strength  increased."  On  8  June, 
the  Dean  of  Tuam  was  able  to  write  :  "The  King's  power 
is  absolute,  all  interests  are  reconciled  ;  all  factions  com- 
posed, the  ambitious  defeated,  the  army  cheerful,  accom- 
plished, numerous.  .  .  .  Itisa  .  .  .  matterfor  joy,  in  which 
your  lordship  will  largely  share,  to  observe  the  daily  acts 
of  his  Majesty's  prudence,  vigilance,  and  high  resolution  in 
the  conduct  of  affairs." 

Finally,  forced  by  Cromwell's  capture  of  Perth,  and  the 
consequent  cutting  off  of  supplies,  into  a  choice  between 
fighting  Cromwell,  retiring  into  the  Highlands,  and  invad- 
ing England,  Charles  chose  the  third,  and  on  i  August 
began  his  march  into  England.  On  the  5th,  at  his  camp 
of  Woodhouselee  on  the  border,  he  published  a  declaration 
of  pardon  and  oblivion  to  all  who  would  return  to  their 
allegiance,  save  and  except  the  regicides ;  and  promised 
that  the  Scotch  army  should  leave  England  directly  it  had 
served  its  purpose.     The  English  did  not  come  in  to  the 


45 


King's  standard  so  fast  as  was  expected,  and  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  suggested  that  this  was  because  the  Scotch- 
man Leslie  was  commander-in-chief;  and  that  therefore 
he  had  better  be  superseded.  On  being  asked  who  could 
replace  him,  Buckingham  answered  "thz.t  he  hoped  the 
King  would  confer  the  command  on  him.  The  next  day 
he  renewed  his  importunity,  and  was  confident  what  he 
proposed  was  "so  evidently  for  his  sernce,  that  David 
Lesley  himself  would  willingly  consent  to  it."  Charles 
said  his  youth  made  him  unfit  for  the  chs  rge.  The  Duke 
replied  that  Henri  IV  of  France  won  a  battle  when  he 
was  younger  than  he ;  " so  that  in  the  eid  the  King  was 
compelled  to  tell  him  he  would  have  no  generalissimo  but 
himself,  upon  which  the  Duke  was  so  discontented  that  he 
came  no  more  to  the  council,  scarce  spoke  to  the  King, 
neglected  everybody  else  and  himself,  insomuch  that  for 
days  he  never  put  on  clean  linen,  nor  conversed  with  any- 
body, nor  did  he  recover  this  ill-humour  whilst  the  army 
stayed  at  Worcester."  He  employed  himuelf  while  in  that 
city,  however,  in  decking  out  his  own  regiment  in  new 
uniforms.^  Marching  into  Lancashire,  anil  receiving  there 
some  help  from  the  Earl  of  Derby,  the  King  routed  some 
rebels  at  Warrington  Bridge,  and  marched  on,  harassed 
by  Lambert  and  Harrison,  with  Cromwe  1  following  him 
close.  On  22  August,  after  a  slight  opposition  by  some 
rebels,  Charles  occupied  Worcester.  Hv.  had  left  Lord 
Derby  in  Lancashire,  but  the  Earl  was  utterly  defeated  on 
the  2Sth  at  Wigan,  and  fled  towards  V^orcester.  Near 
Newport  he  met  Richard  Sneyd,  who  took  him  to  Boscobel 
House  on  Friday  the  29th,  where  William  Penderel  and 
his  wife  kept  the  Earl  safe  till  Sunday  night,  and  then 
conveyed  him  to  Humphrey  Elliot's  at  Gatakar  Park; 
this  gentleman  lent  him  ;f  10,  and  brought  him  safe  to 
Worcester.    On  Saturday  the  23rd,  Charles  was  proclaimed 

'  In  1660,  the  Company  of  Drapers  in  Worcester  pe  titioned  the  King  for 
the  repayment  of  ;{;453  3^.,  "requisitioned  and  expended  on  red  cloth  by 
George  ViUiers,  for  his  regiment  of  Foot  Guards." 


^1 


> 


1' 


46 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


King  by  the  mayor  and  sheriff,  and  published  a  manifesto. 
On  Sunday,  Crosby  offended  the  Presbyterians  by  a  sermon 
in  the  Cathedral  before  the  King,  in  which  he  styled  Charles 
"  Supreme  Head  and  Governor  of  the  Church,  next  unto 
God."  On  Tuesday,  such  as  answered  Charles*  summons 
to  all  men  between  the  ages  of  sixteen  and  sixty,  mustered 
in  Pitchcroft.  Few,  however,  came,  and  in  all  the  King's 
army  was  about  12,000  men,  against  whom  Cromwell  was 
now  bringing  30,000  veteran  troops. 

On  the  28th,  Major-(jeneral  Massey  was  routed  at 
Upton-on-Severn  Bridge  by  Lambert ;  and  under  cover  of 
this  fight,  Oliver  advanced  to  Stoughton,  within  four  miles 
of  the  city  on  the  south  side,  and  on  the  next  day  appeared 
on  Redhill.  That  night  a  camisado,  or  attack  in  which 
all  wore  their  shirts  over  their  armour,  was  given  upon 
Oliver's  camp ;  it  was  unsuccessful,  owing  to  the  traitorous 
discovery  of  the  design  by  one  Guyse,  a  tailor,  afterwards 
hanged  as  reward.  "  The  fatal  3  September  being  come, 
his  Majesty  this  day  (holding  a  council  of  war  upon  the 
top  of  the  college  church  steeple,  the  better  to  discover 
the  enemies'  posture),  observed  some  firing  at  Powick, 
and  Cromwell  making  a  bridge  of  boats  over  Severn, 
under  Bunshill,  about  a  mile  below  the  city  towards 
Teammouth  ;  his  Majesty  presently  goes  down,  commands 
all  to  their  arms,  and  marches  in  person  to  Powick  Bridge 
to  give  orders,  as  well  for  maintaining  that  bridge,  as  for 
opposing  the  making  the  other  of  boats,  and  hasted  back 
to  his  army  in  the  city.  Soon  after  his  Majesty  was  gone 
from  Powick  Bridge,"  Montgomery  was  routed  there  by 
the  rebels,  and  Cromwell  finished  his  pontoon,  thus  leaving 
Worcester  undefended  on  that  side.  "  His  Majesty  being 
retired  from  Powick  Bridge,  marched  with  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  Lord  Grandison  and  some  other  of  his 
cavalry,  through  the  city  and  out  at  Sudbury  ^  Gate  by  the 
Fort  Royal,  where  the  rebels'  great  shot  came  frequently 
near  his  sacred  person.    At  this  time  Cromwell  was  settled 

*  Sidbury, 


r,:.;  ».I!,.'«"|IJIJ.',I~I!B1"! 


BATTLE   OF  WORCESTER 


47 


in  an  advantageous  post  at  Perry  Wood  within  a  mile  of 
the  city,  swelling  with  pride  and  confident  in  the  numbers 
of  his  men,  having  besides  raised  a  breastwork  at  the 
cockshoot  of  that  wood,  for  his  greater  security;  but 
Duke  Hamilton  (formerly  Lord  Lanericc)  with  his  own 
troop  and  some  highlanders.  Sir  Alexander  Forbus  with 
his  regiment  of  foot  and  divers  English  '.  ords  and  gentle- 
men volunteers,  by  his  Majesty's  commanc  and  encourage- 
ment, engaged  him,  and  did  great  execution  upon  his 
best  men,  forced  the  great  Sultan  (as  the  Rhodians  in 
like  case  did  the  Turk)  to  retreat  with  his  Janizaries,  and 
his  Majesty  was  once  as  absolute  master  of  his  great  guns 
as  he  ought  then  to  have  been  of  the  whole  land.  Here 
his  Majesty  gave  an  incomparable  exan:  pie  of  valour  to 
the  rest  by  charging  in  person,  which  the  highlanders 
especially  imitated  in  a  great  measure,  lighting  with  the 
butt-ends  of  their  muskets,  when  their  ammunition  was 
spent ;  but  new  supplies  of  rebels  being  continually  poured 
upon  them,  and  the  main  body  of  Scotch  horse  not  coming 
up  in  due  time  from  the  town  to  his  Majesty's  relief,  his 
army  was  forced  to  retreat  in  at  Sudbury  1  Gate  in  much 
disorder.  ...  At  Sudbury  ^  Gate  (I  know  not  whether  by 
accident  or  on  purpose)  a  cart  laden  with  ammunition  was 
overthrown  and  lay  cross  the  passage,  one  of  the  oxen 
that  drew  it  being  then  killed ;  so  that  his  Majesty  could 
not  ride  into  the  town,  but  was  forced  I0  dismount  and 
come  in  on  foot"  by  crawling  between  the  wheels  of  the 
wagon.  "In  the  Friars  Street  his  Majesty  put  off  his 
armour  (which  was  heavy  and  troublesome  to  him)  and 
took  a  fresh  horse  2 ;  and  then  perceiving  many  of  his 
foot-soldiers  begin  to  throw  down  their  c.rms  and  decline 
fighting,  he  rode  up  and  down  among  tiem,  sometimes 
with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  entreating  them  to  stand  to  their 
arms,  and  fight  like  men ;  otherwhiles  encouraging  them, 

*  Sidbury. 

•  Possibly  the  horse  which  Mr.  Bagnall,  dwelling  near  the  gate,  is  said  to 
nave  turned  into  the  street  ready  saddled,  at  the  cry  of  a  horse  for  the  King. 


I 


i 


\:  ! 


li' 


48 


CHARLES    II   AND   HIS   COURT 


alleging  the  goodness  an«i  justice  of  the  cause  they  fought 
for ;  but  seeing  himself  not  able  to  prevail,  said,  *  I  had 
rather  you  would  shoot  me,  than  keep  me  alive  to  see 
the  sad  consequences  of  this  fatal  day ' :  so  deep  a  sense 
had  his  prophetic  soul  of  the  miseries  of  his  loved  country 
even  in  the  midst  of  his  own  danger.  . .  .  When  his  Majesty 
saw  no  hope  of  rallying  his  thus  discomfited  foot,  he 
marched  out  of  Worcester,  at  St.  Martin's  Gate  (the  Fore 
Gate  being  mured  up)  about  six  of  the  clock  in  the  evening, 
with  his  main  body  of  horse.  His  retreat  was  in  a  measure 
covered  by  the  desperate  stand  made  by  a  body  of  rallied 
gentlemen  in  the  town."  While  in  Worcester,  the  King 
lodged  in  a  house,  still  standing,  at  the  corner  of  New 
Street  and  the  Corn-market ;  and  it  is  said  that  he  was 
nearly  captured  here  by  Major  Corbett,  only  escaping  by 
the  back  door,  as  Corbett  came  in  at  the  front.  The 
action  of  the  battle  lasted  from  one  o'clock  in  the  morning 
until  night,  the  chief  heat  of  the  day  being  in  the  east, 
the  streets  running  with  blood  in  that  quarter. 

Traditions  are,  of  course,  numerous  as  to  Charles' 
escape  at  Worcester.  In  Friars'  Street,  an  old  house  is  still 
pointed  out  as  a  place  where  Charles  changed  clothes  with 
his  host  and  was  let  down  from  a  window  in  a  blanket.  A 
Mrs.  Mary  Graves  petitioned  in  1660  for  favours,  on  the 
ground  that  she  sent  the  King  ten  horses  "  with  men  and 
money,  and  two  empty,  one  of  which  the  King  rode  at 
Worcester,  escaping  from  the  field  on  the  other."  While 
the  King  rode  out  by  the  Town-ditch  into  Foregate  Street, 
the  cry  through  the  city  was  nothing  but  "  Save  the 
King !  "  no  one  knowing  what  had  become  of  him.  Still 
another  story  is  told  of  a  Scotch  gentleman  bringing  water 
in  his  helmet  to  Charles  as  he  left  the  city,  and  being 
granted  estates  in  1660,  on  condition  of  bringing  water  and 
pouring  it  over  the  hands  of  any  Sovereign  of  England 
who  should  cross  his  lands.  The  King's  route,  then,  lay 
up  Foregate  Street  and  the  Tithing,^  to  Barbourne  Bridge, 
^  Though  not  Uirough  the  Foregate :  see  above^ 


BATTLE   OF   WORCESFER 


49 


where  a  halt  was  called  and  a  consultation  held  as  to  the 
direction  of  flight.  But  let  the  King  tell  the  story  of  that 
flight  as  far  as  possible  in  his  own  words,  dictated  to 
Pepys  at  Newmarket,  on  Sunday,  3  October,  and  Tuesday, 
the  5th,  1680.^ 

*  The  ensuing  account  is  almost  entirely  in  the  words  of  the  King's  and  other 
relations  of  the  flight  (see  Preface).  The  King's  owr  words  are  in  inverted 
commas,  such  other  quotations  as  are  thus  distinguished  I  eing  in  square  brackets. 
For  the  whole  period  of  the  exile,  besides  original  authorities  referred  to  in  the 
notes,  cf.  Miss  Eva  Scott's  admirable  monographs  :  ThtKingin  Exile  {1905)  • 
The  Travels  of  the  King  (1907) ;  and  Rupert^  Prince  Talatine  (1900). 


:f 


\i 


Il 


tt'! 


/ 


II 


CHAPTER   III 

**  AFTER   WORCESTER   FIGHT" 

Sidbury  Gate— St.  Martin's  Gate— Barbourne  Bridge— Kinver  Edge 
— Whiteladies— Hobbal  Grange— A  night  walk— At  Mr.  Woolfe's— 
Back  at  Boscobel— Royal  Oak— Mr.  Whitgreave  of  Moseley  and  Mr. 
Huddleston — At  Bentley  with  Colonel  Lane — The  ride  to  Bristol— The 
blacksmith  befooled— Charles  and  the  Meat-Jack— The  King  dis- 
covered at  Bristol— He  goes  to  Colonel  Wyndham's  at  Trent — Jane 
Lane — Charmouth — Bridport — Broadwindsor — Heale  House,  Salis- 
bury—The ride  to  Brighton— The  "George"  at  Brighton— Mine 
host — The  skipper — Charles  lands  at  Fdcamp— Rouen — Paris. 

FTER  that  the  battle  was  so  absolutely  lost,  as 
to  be  beyond  hope  of  recovery,  I  began  to 
think  of  the  best  way  of  saving  myself;  and 
the  first  thought  that  came  into  my  head  was,  that,  if  I 
could  possibly,  I  would  get  to  London,  as  soon,  if  not 
sooner,  than  the  news  of  our  defeat  could  get  thither  :  and 
it  being  dark,  I  talked  with  some,  especially  with  my  Lord 
Rochester,  who  was  then  Wilmot,  about  their  opinions 
which  would  be  the  best  way  for  me  to  escape,  it  being 
impossible,  as  I  thought,  to  get  back  into  Scotland.  I 
found  them  mightily  distracted,  and  their  opinions  different, 
of  the  possibility  of  getting  to  Scotland,  but  not  one 
agreeing  with  mine,  for  going  to  London,  saving  my  Lord 
Wilmot ;  and  the  truth  is,  I  did  not  impart  my  design  of 
going  to  London  to  any  but  my  Lord  Wilmot.  But  we 
had  such  a  number  of  beaten  men  with  us,  of  the  horse, 
that  I  strove,  as  soon  as  ever  it  was  dark,  to  get  from 
them :  and  though  I  could  not  get  them  to  stand  by  me 
against  the  enemy,  I  could  not  get  rid  of  them,  now  I  had 


THE  FIRST   NIGHT 


51 


a  mind  to  it.     So  we,  that  is,  my  Lord  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham,   Lauderdale,  Derby,   Wilmot,  Tom   Blague,   Duke 
Darcey,  and  several  others  of  my  servants,   went  along 
northwards  towards  Scotland ;  and  at  last  we  got  about 
sixty  that  were  gentlemen  and  officers,  and  slipt  away  out 
of  the  highroad  that  goes  to  Lancastershire,  and  kept  on  the 
right-hand,  letting  all  the  beaten  men  go  a.ong  the  great 
road,  and  ourselves  Hot  knowing  very  well  which  way  to 
go,  for  it  was  then  too  late  for  us  to  get  to  London,  on 
horseback,  riding  directly  for  it,  nor  could  w«i  do  it,  because 
there  was  yet  many  people  of  quality  with  lis  that  I  could 
not  get  rid  of."     [Guided  by  Richard  Walker,  one  of  I^rd 
Talbofs  troopers,  they  rode  by  Barnhall  and  Ombersley 
towards  Hartlebury,  then  by  Chester  Lane  and  Green  Hill 
to  Broad  waters,  across  Lea  Castle  Park,  over  the  Stour  by 
Blakeshall,  to  Kinver   Edge.    At  Round  iCill,  Kinver,  a 
second  halt  was  made,  and  Lord  Derby  suggested  his  own 
place  of  refuge,  Boscobel ;  towards  this  pla<:e  Mr.  Charles 
Giffard  and  one  Yates,  a  servant,  led  the  ^  ay.]     "  So  we 
rode  through  a  town  short  of  Woolverhan:  pton,  betwixt 
that  and  Worcester,  and  went  through,  ther<j  lying  a  troop 
of  the  enemies  there  that  night.     We  rod<5  very  quietly 
through  the  town,  they  having  nobody  to  watch,  nor  they 
suspecting  us  no  more  than  we  did  them,  which  I  learned 
afterwards   from   a  country  fellow."     [Two  miles  out  of 
Stourbridge,  near  Wordsley  Church,  is  an  old   red-brick 
gabled  house  where  a  minute's  halt  was  made  and  "his 
majesty  drank,  and  ate  a  crust  of  bread,  the  house  affording 
no  better  provision." ^     As  the  King  rode   on,  "he   dis- 
coursed   with    Colonel    Roscarrock     touching    Boscobel 
House  and  the  means  of  security  which  the  li^arl  of  Derby 
and  he   found  at   that  place."     The   troop   of  Cavaliers 
probably  rode  now  by  Himley  through  Wombourne  and 
the   Wrottesley  Woods  to    Brewood  Forest:  and  White- 
ladies.]     "We  went  that  night  about  twenty  miles,  to  a 

In  France,  Charles  said  that  he  rode  with  bread  in  one  hand  and  meat  in 
the  other. 


'1 


HI 


h 


tl 


l\  ■ 


II! 


ill 


li 


iif 


11 


ill 


52 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


DISGUISES 


53 


place  called  Whiteladys,   hard  by    Tong- Castle,  by  the 
advice  of  Mr.  Giffard,  where  we  slept''     [George  Penderel 
opened  the  door   and   seeing  Yates,   asked  news   of  the 
battle,  and  the  rest  pressed  into  the  house.     "  After  his 
Majesty  and  his  lords  were  entered  the  house,  his  Majesties 
horse  was  brought  into  the  hall,  and  by  this  time  it  was 
about  break  of  day  on   Thursday  morning."     Here  the 
travellers]    "got  some   little   refreshment    of  bread   and 
cheese,  such  as  we  could  get.  .  .  .  And  just  as  we  came 
thither,    there   came   in  a  country-fellow,   that    told  us, 
there   were   three   thousand   of  our    horse  just   hard  by 
Tong-Castle,  upon  the  heath,  all  in  disorder,  under  David 
Leslie,  and  some  other  of  the  general  officers  :  upon  which 
there  were  some  of  the  people  of  quality  that  were  with 
me,  who  were  very  earnest  that  I  should  go  to  him  and 
endeavour  to  go  into  Scotland  ;  which  I  thought  was  abso- 
lutely impossible,  knowing   very   well   that  the   country 
would  all  rise  upon  us,  and  that  men  who  had  deserted  me 
when  they  were  in  good  order,  would  never  stand  to  me 
when  they  have  been  beaten."     ["Mr.  Giffard  presently 
sent  for  Richard  Penderel  who  lived  near  hand  at  Hobbal 
Grange,    and    Colonel   Roscarrock  caused    Bartholomew 
Martin,  a  boy  in  the  house,  to  be   sent  to  Boscobel  for 
William  Penderel;  meantime   Mris.  Giffard   brought   his 
Majesty  some  sack  and  bisket.     Richard  came  first  and 
was  immediately  sent  back  to  bring  a  suit  of  his  clothes 
for  the  King,  and  by  that  time  he  arrived  with   them, 
William  came,  and  both  were  brought  into  the  parlour  to 
the  Earl  of  Derby,  who  immediately  carried  them  into  an 
inner   parlour  (where    the  King  was)   and  told  William 
Penderel  *  This  is  the  King '  (pointing  to  his  Majesty) ; 
*  thou  must  have  a  care  of  him  and  preserve  him  as  thou 
didst  me';»  and  Mr.  Giffard  did  also  conjure  Richard  to 
have  a  special  care  of  his  charge,  to  which  commands  the 
two  brothers   yielded  ready  obedience.     Whilst   Richard 
and  William  were  thus  sent  for,  his  Majesty  had   been 
advised  to  rub  his  hands  on  the  back  of  the  chimney  and 


with  them  his  face,  for  a  disguise ;  and  my  Lord  Wilmot 
cut  his  hair,  untowardly  notching  it   wit!    a  knife.     His 
Majesty  put    off    his    garter,    blue   ribband,    George  of 
diamonds,  buff  coat,  and  other  princely  ornaments,  (also  a 
linen  doublet  and  a  pair  of  grey  breeches)  ;  he  gave  his 
watch  to  the  custody  of  the  Lord  Wilmol ,  his  George  to 
Colonel  Blague,  and  distributed  the  golc    he  had  in  his 
pocket  among  his  servants.     The  King   then  proceeded 
nimbly  to  put  on  the  disguise,  being  a  shir:  borrowed  from 
Edward  Martin  who  lived  in  the  house,  Richard  Penderel's 
jump  and  breeches  of  coarse  green   cloti,   and   doeskin 
leather  doublet,  a  hat  of  Humphrey  Penderel  the  miller's, 
George  Penderel's  band,  and  William   Cresswell's  shoes.^ 
Then  Richard  came  with  a  pair  of  shears  s.nd  rounded  the 
King's  hair ;  and  the  King  was  pleased  to  take  notice  of 
his  good  barbering,  so  as  to  prefer  his  work  before  my 
Lord  Wilmot's  ;  and  now  his  Majesty  was  a  la  mode  the 
woodman.     He  had  not  time  to  be  so  exactly  disguised 
as  afterwards ;  for  both  William   and   Richard    Penderel 
did  advertise  the  company  to  make  haste  away  in  regard 
there  was  a  troop  of  rebels,  commanded  by  Colonel  Ashen- 
hurst,  quartered  at    Cotsal  but  3  miles  distant,  some  of 
which  troop  came  to  the  house  within  half  an  hour  after 
the  dissolution  of  the  royal  troop.     Presently  the  lords 
took  their  heavy  leave  and  departed,  ever)'  one  shifting  for 
himself,"  ^]  "  I  acquainting  none  with  my  resolution  of  going 
to  London  but  my  Lord  Wilmot,  they  all  desiring  me  not 
to  acquaint  them  with  what  I  intended  to  do,  because 
they  knew  not  what  they  might  be  forced  to  confess ;  on 
which  consideration    they,   with    one    vc>ice,    begged    of 
me  not   to  tell    them  what  I  intended    to   do.      So  all 
the   persons   of  quality  and  officers  whc'  were  with   me, 

*  Charles  says  :  *'  I  .  .  .  flung  my  cloaths  into  a  pri^y-house,  that  nobody 
might  see  that  anybody  had  been  stripping  themselves."  But  in  the  True 
Narraiwe  we  are  told  that  the  Penderels  buried  them,  a;  id  dug  them  up  after 
five  weeks. 

*  Derby  viras  taken  and  beheaded  ;  Buckingham  gc  t  safe  to  Rotterdam  ; 
Wilmot  accompanied  Charles  through  most  of  his  wanderings. 


! 


I 


i: 


54 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


II' 


•I 


f 


(except  my  Lord  Wilmot,  with  whom  a  place  was  agreed 
upon  for  our  meeting  at  London,  if  we  escaped,  and 
who  endeavoured  to  go  on  horse-back,  in  regard,  as  I 
think,  of  his  being  too  big  to  go  on  foot,)  were  resolved 
to  go  and  join  with  the  three  thousand  disordered  horse, 
thinking  to  get  away  with  them  to  Scotland.  But, 
as  I  did  before  believe,  they  were  not  marched  six 
miles,  after  they  got  to  them,  but  they  were  all  routed 
by  a  single  troop  of  horse  ;  which  shews  that  my  opinion 
was  not  wrong  in  sticking  to  men  who  had  run  away." 
["The  company  being  departed,  a  wood-bill  was  brought 
and  put  into  the  king's  hand,  and  Richard  Penderel  led 
him  out  at  a  back  door,  and  carried  him  into  an  adjacent 
wood  belonging  to  Boscobel,  called  Spring  Coppice,  about 
half  a  mile  from  Whiteladies  ;  whilst  William  went  home, 
and  Humphrey  and  George  were  scouting  abroad  to  bring 
what  news  they  could  learn  to  his  Majesty  in  the  coppice, 
as  occasion  required."]  "Richard  Penderell  .  .  .  was  a 
Roman  Catholic,  and  I  chose  to  trust  them,  because  I  knew 
they  had  hiding-holes  for  priests,  that  I  thought  I  might 
make  use  of  in  case  of  need.  I  was  no  sooner  gone  (being 
the  next  morning  after  the  battle,  and  then  broad  day)  out 
of  the  house  with  this  country-fellow,  but  being  in  a  great 
wood  I  set  myself  at  the  edge  of  the  wood,  near  the  high- 
way that  was  there,  the  better  to  see  who  came  after  us> 
and  whether  they  made  any  search  after  the  runaways,  and 
I  immediately  saw  a  troop  of  horse  coming  by,  which  I  con- 
ceived to  be  the  same  troop  that  beat  our  three  thousand 
horse  ;  but  it  did  not  look  like  a  troop  of  the  army*s,  but  of 
the  militia,  for  the  fellow  before  it  did  not  look  at  all  like  a 
soldier."  ["  But  the  king  had  not  been  an  hour  in  the  wood 
before  a  troop  of  horse  of  the  enemy's  came  to  Whiteladies, 
and  enquired  if  some  of  the  king's  horse  and  himself 
passed  not  that  way,  and  if  they  could  give  any  information 
of  him.  To  which  the  town  folks  answered,  that  about 
three  hours  ago  there  was  a  party  of  horse  came  thither, 
and  they  supposed  the  king  with  them,  but  they  made  no 


flf,:M 


GOODWIFE  YATES 


55 


stay  in  the  village,  but  presently  departed.  They  were 
hereupon  so  eager  in  the  pursuit,  they  followed  the  route 
and  made  no  further  search  there.  The  King  straight 
heard  this,  by  the  two  aforesaid  scouts,  who  straggled  for 
intelligence  into  the  town."]  "  In  this  wood  I  staid  all  day. 
without  meat  or  drink  ;  and  by  great  good  fc  rtune  it  rained 
all  the  time,  which  hindered  them  as  I  belie>  e,  from  coming 
into  the  wood  to  search  for  men  that  might  be  fled  thither. 
And  one  thing  is  remarkable  enough,  that  those  with  whom 
I  have  since  spoken,  of  them  that  joined  with  the  horse 
upon  the  heath,  did  say,  that  it  rained  little  or  nothing  with 
them  all  the  day,  but  only  in  the  wood,  where  I  was,  this 
contributing  to  my  safety."  ["The  thick«ist  tree  in  the 
wood  was  not  able  to  keep  his  Majesty  dry,  nor  was  there 
any  thing  for  him  to  sit  on  :  thereupon  Francis  Yates*  wife 
came  into  the  wood,  and  brought  the  k  ng  a  blanket, 
which  she  threw  over  his  shoulders  to  keep  him  dry, 
and  Richard  went  to  her  house  and  brought  another 
which  he  folded  and  laid  on  the  ground  for  the  King 
to  sit  on.  At  the  same  time,  Richard  spok(!  to  the  good- 
wife  Yates,  to  provide  some  victuals,  and  she  brought 
the  king  his  first  meat  to  eat  there,  viz.,  a  mess  of  milk, 
eggs,  and  sugar,  in  a  black  earthen  cup,  v^hich  the  king 
guessed  to  be  milk  and  apples,  and  said  he  loved  it  very 
well.  After  he  had  drunk  some  of  it,  and  eaten  part  in 
a  pewter  spoon,  he  gave  the  rest  to  Georg(;,^  and  bid  him 
eat,  for  it  was  very  good.  But  his  Majesty  was  a  little 
surpriz*d  to  see  the  woman  (no  good  concealer  of  a  secret) 
and  said  cheerfully  to  her,  *  Good  woman,  csn  you  be  faith- 
full  to  a  distressed  cavalier  ?  *  She  answe  red,  *  Yes,  sir, 
I  will  die  rather  than  discover  you,'  with  which  answer  his 
Majesty  was  well  satisfied.  There  was  nothing  of  moment 
passed  this  day  in  court,  but  only  the  King  exchanged  his 
wood-bill  for  Francis  Yates'  broom -hook,  wliich  was  some- 
thing lighter.  They  had  much  ado  all  that  day  to  teach 
and  fashion  his  Majesty  to  their  country  guise,  and  to  order 

•  Richard  ?    Or  was  George  present  at  the  time,  reporting  ? 


i 


56 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS  COURT 


his  steps  and  straight  body  to  a  lobbing  Jobson's  gait,  and 
were  forced  every  foot  to  mind  him  of  it ;  for  the  language, 
his  Majesty's  most  gracious  converse  with  his  people  in  his 
journey  to,  and  at  Worcester,  had  rendered  it  very  easy  and 
very  tuneable  to  him."  ^]  "  As  I  was  in  the  wood,  I  talked 
with  the  fellow  about  getting  towards  London  ;  and  ask- 
ing him  many  questions,  about  what  gentlemen  he  knew  ; 
I  did  not  find  he  knew  any  man  of  quality  in  the  way 
towards  London.  And  the  truth  is,  my  mind  changed  as 
I  lay  in  the  wood,  and  I  resolved  of  another  way  of 
making  my  escape ;  which  v/as,  to  get  over  Severn  into 
Wales,  and  so  get  either  to  Swansey,  or  some  ; other  of 
the  seatowns  that  I  knew  had  commerce  with  France,  to 
the  end  I  might  get  over  that  way,  that  I  thought  none 
would  suspect  my  taking;  besides  that,  I  remembered 
several  honest  gentlemen  that  were  of  my  acquaintance  in 
Wales."  [About  five  o'clock  that  evening,  the  King,  with  the 
retinue  of  Richard,  Humphrey,  George,  and  Francis  Yates, 
left  the  wood,  and  betook  himself  to  Richard's  house, 
Hobbal  Grange,  where  he  went  under  the  name  of  William 
Jones,  a  wood-cutter,  newly  come  thither  for  work. 
Against  his  coming,  the  good  wife  for  his  entertainment 
for  supper  was  preparing  a  fricasy  of  bacon  and  eggs  ; 
and  whilst  that  was  doing,  the  King  held  on  his  knee  their 
daughter  Nan.  After  he  had  eat  a  little,  he  asked  Richard 
to  eat,  who  replied :  "  Yea,  sir,  I  will " ;  whereto  his 
Majesty  answered :  "  You  have  a  better  stomach  than  I, 
for  you  have  eaten  five  times  to-day  already."  ^  After 
supper  ended,  the  King,  according  to  his  resolution  to 
pass  into  Wales,  proposed  when  it  should  be  dusky,  to 
depart.  Before  he  went,  Jane  Penderel,  mother  of  the 
five  brethren,  came  to  see  the   King,  before  whom   she 

*  If  this  means  that  Charles  could  speak  the  dialect,  it  contradicts  what  he 
himself  says  later  :  "  The  country-fellow  desired  me  not  to  answer  if  anybody 
should  ask  me  any  questions,  because  I  liad  not  the  accent  of  the  country." 

*  Note  that  Charles  says:  "Memorandum,  that  I  got  some  bread  and 
cheese  the  night  before  at  one  of  the  Peiiderell's  houses,  I  not  going  in." 


A  LOYAL  MILLER 


57 


blessed  God  that  had  so  honoured  her  children  in  making 
them  the   instruments,   as   she  hoped,   of    bis  Majesty's 
safeguard  and  deliverance.      Here  Francis  Yates  offered 
the  King  thirty  shillings  in  silver ;  the  King  accepted  ten, 
and  bid  him  put  the  other  up.     Humphrey  would  have 
gone  before  to  see  and  view  about,  but  the  K  ing  would  not 
let  him.     It  being  now  near  night,  they  took  their  leave  of 
the  King  upon  their  knees,  beseeching  God  to  guide  and 
bless  him.     When  the  night  was  dark,  Riclard  Penderel 
and  the  King  walked  through  the  wood  intc  those  enclo- 
sures which  were  farthest  from  any  highway,  and  making 
a  shift  to  get  over  hedges  and  ditches]    *  towards  the 
Severn,  intending  to  pass  over  a  ferry,  half  way  between 
Bridgenorth  and  Shrewsbury.     But  as  we  were  going  in  the 
night  we  came  by  a  milP  where  I  heard  some  people  talk- 
ing, and  as  we  conceived  it  was  about  twelve  or  one  o'clock 
at  night,^  and  the  country-fellow  desired  me  not  to  answer 
if  any  body  should  ask  me  any  questions,  tecause  I  had 
not  the  accent  of  the  country.    Just  as  wc  came  to  the 
mill,  we  could  see  the  miller,  as  I  believed,  sitting  at  the 
mill  door,  he  being  in  white  cloaths,  it  being  a  very  dark 
night.     He  called   out,    '  Who  goes    there  ?  *    [having  a 
quarter-staff  or  a  good  cudgel  in  his  hand.]     "  Upon  which 
Richard  Penderel  answered,  *  Neighbours  going  home,' or 
some  such  like  words.^    Whereupon  the  mi  ler  cried  out, 
*  if  you  be  neighbours,  stand,  or  I  will  knock  you  down.' 
Upon  which,  we  believing  there  was  compan}'  in  the  house, 
the  fellow  bade  me  follow  him  close  "  ;  [and  tie  water  being 
shallow,  he  leapt  off  the  bridge  into  it,  and  the  King  did 
the  like,  following  Richard  by  the  noise  and  rattling  of  his 
leathern  breeches  ;]  "and  he  run  to  a  gate  that  went  up  a 
dirty  lane,  up  a  hill,  and  opening  the  gate,  the  miller  cried 
out, '  Rogues  !  Rogues ! '    And  thereupon  some  men  came 


»  Evelith  MiU. 

*  In  reality,  about  nine  o'clock. 


'  "  To  which  Richard,  being  foremost,  thought  it  not  safe  to  reply  "  [True 
Narrative), 


ijt 


58 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


HIDING   IN  A  BARN 


59 


' 


M 


out  of  the  mill  after  us,  which  I  believed  was  soldiers  ^ :  so 
we  fell  a  running,  both  of  us,  up  the  lane,  as  long  as  we 
could  run,  it  being  very  deep,  and  very  dirty,  till  at  last  I 
bade  him  leap  over  a  hedge,  and  lie  still  to  hear  if  any  body 
followed  us ;  which  we  did,  and  continued  lying  down 
upon  the  ground  about  half  an  hour,  when,  hearing  nobody 
come  we  continued  our  way  on  to  the  village  upon  the 
Severn  ; "  2  p*  x^jg  was  so  grievous  a  march,  and  he  was  so 
tired  that  he  was  even  ready  to  despair,  and  to  prefer  being 
taken  and  suffered  to  rest,  before  purchasing  his  safety  at 
such  a  price.  His  shoes  had  after  a  few  miles  hurt  him  so 
much  that  he  had  thrown  them  away  and  walked  the  rest 
of  the  way  in  his  ill  stockings,  which  were  quickly  worn  out ; 
and  his  feet  with  the  thorns  in  getting  over  hedges  and 
with  the  stones  in  other  places,  were  so  hurt,  and  wounded, 
that  he  many  times  cast  himself  upon  the  ground,  with  a 
desperate  and  obstinate  resolution  to  rest  there  till  the 
morning,  that  he  might  shift  with  less  torment  what 
hazard  soever  he  run.  But  his  stout  guide  still  prevailed 
with  him  to  make  a  new  attempt,  sometimes  promising 
that  the  way  should  be  better,  and  sometimes  assuring 
him  that  he  had  little  farther  to  go ;  and  in  this  distress 
and  perplexity,  before  the  morning  they  arrived  at  the 
house  designed  after  the  walking  a  few  miles;"]  "where 
the  fellow  told  me  there  was  an  honest  gentleman,  one 
Mr.  Woolfe,  where  I  might  be  with  great  safety  ;  for  that 
he  had  hiding-holes  for  priests.  But  I  would  not  go  in 
till  I  knew  a  little  of  his  mind,  whether  he  would  receive 
so  dangerous  a  guest  as  me  ?  and  therefore  stayed  in  a 
field,  under  a  hedge,  by  a  great  tree,  commanding  him  not 
to  say  it  was  I ;  but  only  to  ask  Mr.  Woolfe,  whether  he 
would  receive  an  English  gentleman,  a  person  of  quality, 

*  "The  miller  being  glad  he  was  so  rid  of  them,  for  (as  it  afterwards 
appeared)  here  were  some  of  the  King's  scattered  soldiers  in  his  mill,  and  he 
supposed  the  other  to  be  Parliamentarians  that  were  upon  the  scent  for  his 
distressed  guests  "  {Trug  Narrative). 

»  "Mr.  Francis  Woolfe  lived  at  Madely "  (Huddleston). 


to  hide  him  the  next  day,  till  we  could  travel  again  by 
night,  for  I  durst  not  go  but  by  night.  Mr.  V^oolfe,  when 
the  country-fellow  told  him  that  it  was  one  that  had 
escaped  from  the  battle  of  Worcester,  said,  that  for  his 
part,  it  was  so  dangerous  a  thing  to  harbour  any  body  that 
was  known,  that  he  would  not  venture  his  n^ck  for  any 
man,  unless  it  were  the  King  himself.  Upon  which, 
Richard  Penderel,  very  indiscreetly,  and  without  any  leave, 
told  him  that  it  was  I.  Upon  which  Mr.  WoDlfe  replied, 
that  he  should  be  very  ready  to  venture  all  he  had  in  the 
world  to  secure  me.  Upon  which  Richard  Penderel  came 
and  told  me  what  he  had  done.  At  which  I  was  a  little 
troubled,  but  then  there  was  no  remedy,  the  day  being 
just  coming  on,  and  I  must  either  venture  that,  or  run 
some  greater  danger.  So  I  came  into  the  house  a  back 
way,  where  I  found  Mr.  Woolfe,  an  old  gentleman,  who 
told  me  he  was  very  sorry  to  see  me  there ;  because  there 
was  two  companies  of  the  militia  foot,  at  that  time,  in 
arras  in  the  town,  and  kept  a  guard  at  the  ferry,  to 
examine  every  body  that  came  that  way,  in  expectation 
of  catching  some  that  might  be  making  their  escape  that 
way ;  and  that  he  durst  not  put  me  into  any  of  the  hiding- 
holes  of  his  house,  because  they  had  been  discovered,  and 
consequently  if  any  search  should  be  made,  they  would 
certainly  repair  to  these  holes ;  and  that  therefore  I  had 
no  other  way  of  security  but  to  go  into  his  barn,  and  there 
lye  behind  his  com  and  hay.  So  after  he  hud  given  us 
some  cold  meat,  that  was  ready,  we,  without  riaking  any 
bustle  in  the  house,  went  and  lay  in  the  barn  all  the  next 
day  ;  when  towards  evening,  his  son,  who  had  be  en  prisoner 
at  Shrewsbury,  an  honest  man,  was  released  and  came 
home  to  his  father's  house.  And  as  soon  as  ever  it  began 
to  be  a  little  darkish,  Mr.  Woolfe  and  his  son  brought  us 
meat  into  the  barn ;  and  there  we  discoursed  with  them, 
whether  we  might  safely  get  over  the  Severn  into  Wales  ; 
which  they  advised  me  by  no  means  to  adventure  upon, 
because  of  the  strict  guards  that  were  kept  al    along  the 


i 


: 


60 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


Severn,  where  any  passage  could  be  found,  for  preventing 
any  body's  escaping  that  way  into  Wales.     Upon  this  I 
took  the  resolution  of  going  that  night  the  very  same 
way   back  again  to  Penderell's  house,  where  I  knew  I 
should  hear  some  news,  what  was  become  of  my  Lord 
Wilmot,  and   resolved   again   upon   going   for  London." 
["The  day  being  over,  his  Majesty  adventured  to  come 
again  into  the  house,  where,  his  Majesty's  hands  not  ap- 
pearing sufficiently  discoloured,  suitable  to  his  other  dis- 
guise, Mrs.  Woolf  provided   walnut-tree   leaves,^   as  the 
readiest  expedient  for  that  purpose.    Having  for  some  time 
refreshed  himself,  and  being  furnished  with  conveniences 
for  his  journey,^  (which  was  conceived  to  be  safer  on  foot 
than  by  horse)  the  King  with  his  faithful  guide  Richard 
and  a  maid  of  the  house,  who  brought  them  two  miles  on 
their  way,"]  "  set  out  again  as  soon  as  it  was  dark.     But, 
as  we  came  by  the  mill  again,  we  had  no  mind  to  be 
questioned  a  second   time   there ;    and   therefore   asking 
Richard  Penderell  whether  he  could  swim  or  no  ?  and  how 
deep  the  river  was  ?  he  told  me,  it  was  a  scurvy  river,  not 
easy  to  be  past  in  all  places,  and  that  he  could  not  swim. 
So  I  told  him,  that  the  river  being  but  a  little  one,  I  would 
undertake  to  help  him  over.     Upon  which  we  went  over 
some  closes  to  the  river-side,  and  I  entering  the  river  first,  to 
see  whether  I  could  myself  go  over,  who  knew  how  to  swim, 
found  it  was  but  a  little  above  my  middle ;  and  thereupon 
taking  Richard  Penderell  by  the  hand  I  helped  him  over." 
["  About  three  of  the  clock  on  Saturday  morning,  being 
come   near  the   house,  Richard  went   in  to  see   if  any 
soldiers   were  there,   or  other  danger,   where    he    found 
Colonel  William  Carlis  (who  had  seen,  not  the  last  man 
born,  but  the  last  man  killed,  at  Worcester),  and  who, 
having  with  much  difficulty  made  his  escape  from  thence,^ 

*  Decoction  of  galls  ? 

*  Mr.  Woolfe  lent  his  Majesty  some  small  sum  of  money  ;  and  a  pair  of 
green  yam  stockings. 

'  Cf.  Exact  Narrative  and  Relation,  etc.,  1660. 


COLONEL  CARLOS 


61 


was  got  into  his  own  neighbourhood,  and  for  some  time 
concealing  himself  in  Boscobel  Wood,  was  come  that 
morning  to  the  house,  to  get  some  relief  of  William 
Penderel,  his  old  acquaintance.  Richard  having  acquainted 
the  Colonel  that  the  King  was  in  the  wood,  the  Colonel, 
with  William  and  Richard  go  presently  thither  to  give 
their  attendance,  where  they  find  his  Majestj*  sitting  on 
the  root  of  a  tree  ;  and  the  Colonel  was  so  ove  rjoyed  with 
the  sight  of  the  King  his  master,  in  such  sure  and  safe 
hands,  that  he  could  not  refrain  weeping,  and  the  King 
himself  was  moved  with  the  same  passion,  and  came  with 
them  into  the  house,^  where  he  eat  bread  and  cheese  heartily, 
and  (as  an  extraordinary),  William  Penderel's  wife  made 
his  Majesty  a  posset  of  thin  milk  and  small  beer,  and  got 
ready  some  warm  water  to  wash  his  feet, not  oily  extreme 
dirty,  but  much  galled  with  travail.  The  Co"  onel  pulled 
off  his  Majesty's  shoes,  which  were  full  of  gravel,  and 
stockings,  which  were  very  wet ;  and  William's  wife  cut 
the  blisters,  washed  the  feet,  and  gave  his  Majesty  some 
ease.  There  being  no  other  shoes  in  the  house  that  would 
fit  him,  the  good- wife  put  some  hot  embers  in  :hose  to  dry 
them,  whilst  his  Majesty's  feet  were  washiig  and  his 
stockings  shifted.  Being  thus  a  little  refreshed.  Colonel 
Carless"]  "told  me  that  it  would  be  very  dangerous  for  me 
either  to  stay  in  that  house  or  to  go  into  the  Nood ;  there 
being  a  great  wood  hard  by  Boscobel "  ["  for  though  there 
was  a  highway  near  one  side  of  it  where  th^  King  had 
entered  into  it,  yet  it  was  large,  and  all  othe  r  sides  of  it 
opened  amongst  enclosures."]  ;  "  that  he  knew  but  one  way 
how  to  pass  the  next  day,  and  that  was,  to  get  up  into  a 


*  Charles  says,  "  When  I  came  to  this  house,  I  inquired 
Wilmot  was  ;  it  being  now  towards  morning,  Penderell's  brotl 
he  had  conducted  him  to  a  very  honest  gentleman's  house,  on 
[Whitgreave],  not  far  from  Wolverhampton,  [at  Moseley],  a  1 
I  asked  him,  what  news  ?  He  told  me,  that  there  was  one  M 
the  house,"  etc.  Charles  probably  confuses  the  house  of  John 
was  Whiteladies,  where  he  inquired  for  Wilmot,  and  that  of 
he  found  Carlos. 


where  my  Lord 
ler  told  me,  that 
I  Mr.  Pitchcroft 
loman  Catholic, 
ajor  Careless  in 
Penderel,  which 
William,  where 


62 


CHARLES  II  AND  HIS  COURT 


THE  ROYAL  OAK 


63 


great  oak,  in  a  pretty  plain  place,  where  we  might  see 
round  about  us ;  for  the  enemy  would  certainly  search  at 
the    wood    for    people    that   had    made    their    escape." 
["Accordingly   about   nine    of  the   clock   that   Saturday 
morning,   the   6   September,  they   went    into   the    wood, 
and  Colonel  Carless  brought  the  King  to  that  oak,  where 
before   he   had   himself  been  lodged.      This  tree  is  not 
hollow,  but  of  a  sound,  firm  trunk,  only  about  the  middle 
of  the  body  of  it  there  is  a  hole  in  it,  about  the  bigness  of 
a  man's  head,  from  whence  it  absurdly  and  abusively  (in 
respect  to  its  deserved  perpetual  growth,  to  outlast  time 
itself)   is  called   hollow  ;    and    by    the    help    of  William 
Penderells    ladder    they    got    up    into  the   boughs   and 
branches  of  the   tree,   which   were  very  thick  and  well- 
spread,  full  of  leaves,  and  lined  and  covered  with  ivy  ;  for 
it "]  "  had  been  lopt  some  three  or  four  years  before,  and 
being  grown  out  again,  very  bushy  and  thick,  could  not  be 
seen  through."     ["  When  they  were  both  up,  William  gave 
them  up  two  pillows  to  lie  upon  between  the  thickest  of 
the  branches,  and  the  King,  being  over-wearied  with  travel 
and   his   sore  journey,   began   to   be  very  sleepy.      The 
Colonel,  to  accommodate  him  the  best  he  could,  desired 
his  Majesty  to  lay  his  head  in  his  lap,  and  rest  the  other 
parts  of  his  body  upon  the  pillow,  which  the   King  did  ; 
whilst  his  Majesty  was  thus  sleeping,  he  chanced  so  to  rest 
his  head  upon  one  of  the  arms  of  the  Colonel,  that  by 
compressing  the  nervous  parts  of  it,  it  caused  such  a  stupor 
or  numbness  in  the  part,  that  he  had  scarcely  strength  left 
in  it  any  longer  to  support  his  Majesty  from  falling  off  the 
tree,  neither  durst  he  by  reason   of  the  nearness  of  the 
enemy  (now  hunting  so  greedily  after  him)  speak  so  loud 
as  to  awake  him  ;  nevertheless,  to  avoid  both  the  danger 
of  the   fall   and   the   surprise   together,   he   was    (though 
unwillingly)  constrained  to  practice  so  much  incivility  (as 
I  was  credibly  informed  by  a  worthy  person  who  received 
this   information  from  the    Colonel's  own   mouth),  as  to 
pinch  his  Majesty  to  the  end  he   might   awake  him  to 


prevent  his  present  danger.     After  the  King  had  taken  a 
good  nap  (William  and  his  wife  Joan  still  pcaU  ing  up  and 
down,^  and  she  commonly  near  the   place,  with  a  neet- 
hook  in  her  hand,  gathering  of  sticks),  he  a\/aked  very 
hungry,  and  wished  he  had  something  to  eat,  whereupon  the 
Colonel    plucked   out  of  his  pocket  a  good  luncheon  of 
bread  and  cheese  (which  Joan  Penderel  had  gi^«en  him  for 
provant  for  that  day,  and  had  wrapped  it  up  in  a  clean 
linen  cloth),  of  which  the  King  fed  very  heartily,  and  was 
well  pleased  with  the  service,  and  commended  highly  his 
good  cheer ;  and  some  other  small  relief  he  had  which  was 
put  up  in  the  tree  with  a  long  hook-stick."]  "  Memorandum, 
that  while  we  were  in  this  tree  we  see  soldien   going  up 
and  down,  in  the  thicket  of  the  wood,  searching  br  persons 
escaped,  we  seeing  them,  now  and  then,  peeping  out  of  the 
wood."  ["  they  heard  all  the  discourse  how  they  would  use 
the  King  himself  if  they  could  take  him."]     "  I  having,  in 
the    meantime,   sent    [Richard    Penderel]  to  ^Ir.  [Whit- 
greave's],  to  know  whether  my  Lord  Wilmot  wiis  there  or 
no,  and  had  word  brought  me  by  him,  at  night,  that  my 
Lord  was  there  ;  that  there  was  a  very  secure  hiding-hole 
in  Mr.  [Whitgreave's]  house,  and  that  he  desired  me  to 
come  thither  to  him.    I  did  not  depend  upon  fir  ding  Lord 
Wilmot,  but  sent  only  to  know  what  was  become  of  him  ; 
for  he  and  I  had  agreed  to  meet  at  London,  at  the  Three 
Cranes  in  theVintry,  and  to  enquire  for  Will  Ash  Durnham." 
["Richard   Penderel  was   sent  to  Wolverhampton,  some 
seven  miles  distant,  to  buy  wine  and  biscuit  and  some 
other  necessary  refreshments  for  the  King,  anc  withal  to 
speak   with   one    Mr.   George    Manwaring   (a   person   of 
known  integrity  and  loyalty)  from  Colonel  Careless,  with 
some  instructions  about  the  King's  removal,  though  not 
expressly  the   King,  but   one   of  that  ruined  ])arty.     In 

»  A  warrant  was  issued  in  1663  «  for  ^^loo  for  Joan  Pendrell,  the  person 
Who  gathered  sticks  and  diverted  the  horsemen  from  the  oak  his  Majesty  was 
in  ^taUndar  of  StaU  Papers,  10  July,  1663;  and  Allan  Fea's  Might  of  the 
^'".f.  P-  55)- 


: 


If! 


64 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


ll 


effect  it  was  to  know  of  hira  whether  he  knew  of  any  sure 
privacy  for  two  such  persons  ;  to  which  he  answered  he  had 
not  himself,  but  would  inquire  if  a  friend  of  his,  one  Mr. 
Whitgreave,  of  Moseley,  could  do  it.  Then  Richard 
returned  with  his  wine,  etc.,  to  the  King,  who,  towards 
evening,  came  down  by  the  same  ladder  from  the  tree, 
and  was  brought  into  the  garden  of  Boscobel  House, 
where  he  sat  in  the  bower  of  it,  and  drank  part  of  the 
wine,  till  towards  night.  Neither  was  Humphrey  Penderel, 
the  miller,  unemployed  all  this  while,  but  was  sent  to  get 
intelligence  how  things  went.  And  the  easier  to  come  by 
it,  he  was  sent  to  a  captain  of  the  Rump,  one  Broadway, 
at  Shifnal,  formerly  a  heel-maker,  under  pretence  of  carry- 
ing him  twenty  shillings  for  the  pay  of  a  man  in  the 
new-raised  militia  of  their  county,  for  their  mistress. 
While  he  was  there,  in  came  a  colonel  of  the  rebels,  and 
asked  for  Captain  Broadway,  on  purpose  to  know  what 
further  enquiry  had  been  made  at  Whiteladies  for  the 
King,  relating  Broadway  the  story  of  it,  to  which  he 
replied  that  he  knew  nothing  of  it  further  than  rumour, 
but  that  there  was  one  of  that  place  in  the  house  that 
could  give  him  an  account  of  it.  So  Humphrey  was 
called,  and  several  questions  put  to  him,  which  he  evaded, 
but  confessed  that  the  King  had  been  there,  as  was 
supposed,  but  there  was  no  likelihood  for  him  to  stay 
there,  for  there  were  three  ^  families  in  the  house,  and  all 
at  difference  with  one  another.  The  colonel  told  him 
there  was  a  thousand  pounds  offered  to  any  that  would 
take  or  discover  him  ;  that  the  penalty  for  concealing  him 
was  death  without  mercy ;  and  that  they  doubted  not  but 
within  a  day  or  two  to  have  him  delivered  into  their 
hands.  These  tidings  Humphrey  brought  with  him,  and 
omitted  not  to  tell  his  Majesty  of  the  price  the  rebels  had 
set  on  him  ;  at  the  telling  of  which  the  King  looked  some- 
thing dismayed,  as  having  trusted  his  life  into  the  hands 


'if 
1 1 


*  Five,  according  to  another  account. 


I  I 


I*"'  I 


y-  >    -K 


CHARLES   II   ABOUT  1661 

FROM   AN    BNGRAVING   IJY  FAITHORNE 


'W 


SHEEP-MURDER 


65 


of  so  poor  men,  whom  such  a  sum  as  that  (:hough  both 
detestable  and  of  inconsiderable  value  to  the  purchase) 
might  pervert  from  their  allegiance  and  fidelity,  which  made 
Humphrey  to  be  exceedingly  troubled  for  his  rashness, 
while  Colonel  Carless  assured  the  King,  *If  it  were  an 
hundred  thousand  pounds,  it  were  to  no  more  purpose, 
and  that  he  would  engage  his  soul  for  their  truth  ' ;  which 
Humphrey  also  with  many  urgent  asseverations  did 
succeed.  His  Majesty  now  finding  himself  in  a  hopeful 
security,  permitted  William  Penderel  to  shave  him,  and 
cut  the  hair  off  his  head  as  short  at  the  tof  as  scissors 
would  do  it,  but  leaving  some  about  the  ears,  according  to 
the  country  mode;  Colonel  Carless  attendirg,  told  his 
Majesty,  William  was  but  a  mean  barber,  to  which  his 
Majesty  answered,  he  had  never  been  sha^ed  by  any 
barber  before.  The  King  bad  William  burn  the  hair  which 
he  cut  off;  but  William  was  only  disobedient  ir  that,  for  he 
kept  a  good  part  of  it,  wherewith  he  has  since  pleasured 
some  persons  of  honour,  and  is  kept  as  a  civil  relique. 
This  night  the  goodwife  (whom  his  Majesty  was  pleased 
to  call  *my  Dame  Joan  *)  provided  some  chickens  for  his 
Majesty's  supper;  and  a  little  pallet  was  pat  into  the 
secret  place  for  his  Majesty  to  rest  in,  some  of  :he  brothers 
being  continually  upon  duty,  watching  the  avenues  of  the 
house  and  the  roadway,  to  prevent  the  danger  cf  a  surprise. 
After  supper.  Colonel  Carless  asked  his  Majesty  what  meat 
he  would  please  to  have  provided  for  the  mcrrow,  being 
Sunday ;  the  King  desired  some  mutton,  if  it  might  be 
had.  But  it  was  thought  dangerous  for  William  to  go  to 
any  market  to  buy  it,  since  his  neighbours  all  knew  he  did 
not  use  to  buy  such  for  his  own  diet,  and  so  it  might  beget 
a  suspicion  of  his  having  strangers  at  his  housed.  But  the 
Colonel  found  another  expedient  to  satisfy  hi  s  Majesty's 
desires.  Early  on  Sunday  morning  he  repairs  to  Mr. 
William  Staunton's  sheep-cote,  who  rented  s^me  of  the 
demesnes  of  Boscobel ;  here  he  chose  one  of  the  best 
sheep,  sticks  him  with  his  dagger,  then  sends  William  for 


la 


66 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


JOURNEY  TO   MOSELEY 


the  mutton,  who  brings  him  home  on  his  back.^    The  King 

slept  very  incommodiously,  with  little  or  no  rest,  for  the 

place  ^  was  not  large  enough  for  him ;  and  on  Sunday 

morning,  7  September,  his  Majesty  got  up  early,  and  near 

the  place  where  he  lay,  had  the  convenience  of  a  gallery 

to  walk  in,  where  he  was  observed  to  spend  some  time  in 

his  devotions,  and  where  he  had  the  advantage  of  a  window 

which  surveyed  the  road  from  Tong  to  Brewood.     Soon 

after  his  Majesty  coming  down  into  the  parlour,  his  nose 

fell  a-bleeding,  which  put  his  poor  faithful  servants  into  a 

great  fright ;  but  his  Majesty  was  pleased  soon  to  remove 

it,  by  telling  them  it  often  did  so.     As  soon  as  the  mutton 

was  cold,  William  cut  it  up  and  brought  a  leg  of  it  into 

the  parlour  ;  3  his  Majesty  called  for  a  knife  and  a  trencher, 

and  cut  some  of  it  into  collops,  and  pricked  them  with  the 

knife's  point ;  then  called  for  a  frying-pan  and  butter,  and 

fried  the  collops  himself,  of  which  he  ate  heartily  ;  Colonel 

Carless  the  while  being  but  under-cook  (and  that  honour 

enough  too),  made  the  fire,  and  turned  the  collops  in  the 

pan.     This  passage  yielded  the  King  a  pleasant  jocular 

discourse  after  his  arrival  in  France,  when  it  amounted  to 

a  question,  a  very  difficult  case,  who  was  cook,  and  who 

was  scullion  ?    And  the  solution  of  the  doubt,  when  it 

could  not  be  decided  by  the  lords  then  present,  was  referred 

to  the  judgment  of  his  Majesty's  master-cook,  who  affirmed 

that  the   King  was  {hie  et  nunc)  both   of  them.*     His 

Majesty  spent  some  part  of  this  Lord's  Day  in  reading  the 

»  The  Trtie  Narrative  says,  William  brought  one  of  the  sheep  into  the 
ground-cellar,  where  the  Colonel  stuck  it  with  his  dagger.  "And  when 
William  came  down,  they  hung  it  up«on  a  door  and  flayed  it,  and  brought  up 
a  hind-quarter  to  the  king." 

*  Apparently  a  small  hole,  enteriid  by  a  small  square  trap-door  in  the  floor 
of  the  garret,  gallery,  or  cheese-room,     (Fea.) 

»  "The  danger  being  over,  honest  William  began  to  think  of  making  satis- 
faction for  the  fat  mutton,  and  accordingly  tendered  Mr.  Staunton  its  worth 
in  money  ;  but  Staunton,  understanding  the  sheep  was  killed  for  the  relief  of 
some  honest  Cavaliers,  refused  to  take  the  money,  but  wished,  much  good 
might  it  do  them.*'    (Blount's  Boscobel.) 

♦  "  The  supremacy  was  of  right  Jidjudged  to  his  Majesty,"    (Blount.) 


67 


Scriptures,  in  a  pretty  arbour  in  Boscobel  garden,  which 
grew  upon  a  mount,  and  wherein  there  was  \  stone  table, 
and  seats  about  it,  and  commended  the  place  ror  its  retired- 
ness.i  That  night,  they  laid  the  King  a  sorry  bed  upon  the 
stair-case,  that  the  meanness  of  his  lodgings  might  secure 
him  from  suspicion.  Now  his  Majesty  intended  going  to 
my  Lord  Wilmot  at  Moseley,  and  sent  Johi  Penderel  to 
tell  my  lord  so,  on  Sunday  morning,  but  he  found  my 
lord  gone  to  Bentley,  yet  with  Mr.  Whitgreave  and  Mr. 
Huddleston  he  went  to  Bentley  and  my  Lord  desired 
Mr.  Whitgreave  to  meet  him  at  twelve  that  night,  and 
Mr.  Huddleston  to  name  a  place  where  he  WDuld  meet  his 
Majesty  about  one  o'clock,  the  same  night,  john  Penderel 
returned  to  Boscobel  with  this  information]  in  the  after- 
noon. Sunday  night,  at  eleven  o'clock,  ^^^as  the  time 
appointed  for  the  King's  departure  to  Mosel.iy,  and  as  the 
King's  feet  were  too  bad  to  walk,  a  horse  was  to  be  found. 
John  was  ordered  to  borrow  one  of  one  Stantc n  2  of  Hatton, 
but  he  had  lent  his  out  before ;  when  the  Cclonel  remem^ 
bered  that  Humphrey  the  miller  had  one,  md  he  there- 
upon was  called  and  desired  to  lend  him  rbr  the  King's 
service.  It  was  a  kind  of  war-horse  that  had  carried  many 
a  load  of  provisions  and  such  like,  but  now  he  put  upon 
him  a  bridle,  and  saddle  that  had  outworn  his  tree  and 
irons,  and  at  the  time  prefixed  brought  him  to  the  gate. 
As  soon  as  the  King  had  notice  of  it,  out  he  came,  and 
would  have  had  none  but  Colonel  Cariess  and  John  to 
have  gone  along  with  him ;  but  the  Colonel  humbly  took 
leave  of  him,  being  so  well  known  in  the  corntry,  that  his 
attendance  upon  his  Majesty  would  in  all  probability 
have  proved  rather  a  disservice  than  otherwise  ;  however, 
his  hearty  prayers  were  not  wanting  for  his  Majesty's 
preservation.  Colonel  Cariess  and  John  told  his  Majesty 
It  was  dangerous  to  venture  himself  with  only  two,  and 
therefore  entreated  him  that  he  would  giv^i  all  the  rest 

\  !!  IT  Pf^^^^^y  °<^t  here,  but  at  the  stone  table  in  the  wood.    (Fea.) 
-  Mr.  btaunton,  who  owned  the  sheep  ? 


il 


» 
•  '1 


f 


' 


i 


6S 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


ARRIVAL 


III 


! 


1 


leave  to  go  with  him,  which  he  granted.     Thus  then  his 

Majesty  was  mounted,  and  thus  he  rode  towards  Moseley, 

attended  by  William,  John,  Richard,  and  George  Penderel, 

and  Francis  Yates  ;  each  of  these  took  a  bill  or  pike-staff 

on  his  back,  and  some  of  them  had  pistols  in  their  pockets ; 

two   marched   before,   one  on  each  side  of  his  Majesty's 

horse,  and  two  came  behind  aloof  off ;  Humphrey  leading 

his  horse  by  the   bridle.     They   conducted   his   Majesty 

through  byways :  it  was  nine  or  ten  miles  from  Boscobel 

to  Moseley,  and  the  way  in  some  places  miry,  where  the 

horse  blundering  caused  the  King  to  suspect  falling,  and 

to  complain  that  *  it  was  the  heaviest  dull  jade  he  ever  rode 

on '  and  bid  Humphrey  have  a  care,  to  which  Humphrey 

answered,   'That  that    now  fortunate  horse  had  carried 

many  a  heavier  weight  in   his   time,  six  strike  of  corn 

(which  measure  the  King  understood  not),  but  now  he  had 

a  better  price  on  his  back,  the  price  of  three  kingdoms, 

and  therefore  would   not  now  shame  his  master.*    Their 

travel  was  soon  and  safe  ended,  and  the  King  brought  the 

back  way  to  a  stile  that  led  to  the  house,  at  Pendeford 

Mill,  about  two  miles  from  Moseley  :    Humphrey  led  the 

horse  into  a  ditch,  and  the  King  alighted  off  upon  the  stile ; 

and  then  William,  Humphrey,  and  George  were  returning 

with  the  horse,  and  his  Majesty  forgetting  this,  was  gone 

five  or  six  steps  onward,  without  taking  leave  of  them  ; 

but  recalling  himself,  returned  and  said  :  *  I  am  troubled 

that  I  forget  to  take  my  leave  of  my  friends ;  but  if  ever 

I   come    into    England,   by   fair   or    foul   means,   I  will 

remember  you,  and  let  me  see  you,  whenever  it  shall  so 

please  God.*  *     Richard,  John,  and  Francis  then  took  his 

Majesty    the  rest  of  the  way.     Now  Mr.   Whitgreave 

»  "  He  called  to  them  and  said  :  *  My  troubles  make  me  forget  myself.  I 
thank  you  all !  *  and  gave  them  his  hand  to  kiss."  (Blount's  Boscobel.)  There 
is  a  story  that  William  Penderel,  after  the  Restoration,  came  to  London,  met 
the  King  walking  in  St.  James'  Park,  ran  up  and  took  him  by  the  arm  ;  Charles 
asked  who  he  was,  and  being  told,  immediately  told  Ormonde  to  see  him 
well  provided  for.  The  brothers  were  afterwards  introduced  to  the  King  at 
Court,  where  he  familiarly  conversed  with  them.    (Fea.) 


69 


awaited  and  met   my   Lord  Wilmot   at    a   close    called 
Allports  Leasow,*  and  Mr.  Huddleston  awaited  the  King 
at  the  Moor  Close.     The  King  was  two  hours  later  than 
the  appointed  time,^  and    Mr.  Whitgreave,  at  my  Lord's 
request,  went  down  into  the  orchard  to  look  for  them,  and 
presently  saw  them  coming  up  the   Long  Walk,    and 
speedily  acquainted  my  Lord,  who  desired  him  to  stay  at 
the  orchard  door,  and  shew  them  the  way  to  the  stairs, 
where  my  Lord  expected  them  with  a  light.     When  his 
Majesty  came  to  the  door  with  his  guards,  he  was  so 
habited  like  one  of  them,  that  Mr.  Whitgreave  could  not 
tell  which  was  he,  only  he  knew  all  the  rest ;  he   could 
scarce  put  off  his  hat  to  him,  but  he  disccvering  by  the 
light  the  stairs  immediately  went  to  them,  \^here  his  lord- 
ship expected  him,  and  took  him  up  to  his  chamber.     My 
lord    kneeled   and    embraced  his   Majesty'r.    knees,   who 
kissed  my  lord  on  the  cheek,  and  asked  liim  earnestly, 
'  What  is  become  of  Buckingham,  Cleveland,  and  others  ? ' 
To  which  my  Lord  could  give  little  satisfaction,  but  hoped 
they  were  safe.      Meanwhile   Mr.   Whitgreive   took    the 
Penderels  into  the  buttery  to  eat  and  drinc,  in  order  to 
despatch  them  away,  and  secure  the  hous<j :  but  ere  he 
had  done,  Mr.  Huddleston  comes  down,  desiring  him  to 
come  up,  which  accordingly  he  did,  and  coir  ing  in  at  the 
chamber  door,  his  Majesty  and  my  Lord  being  both  at  a 
cupboard's  head  nigh  to  it,  talking,  his  Loidship  said  to 
Mr.  Whitgreave :  '  This  gentleman  under  d  sguise,  whom 
I  have  hitherto  concealed,  is  both  your  master,  mine,  and 
the  master  of  us  all,  to  whom  we  all  owe  our  duty  and 
allegiance  "  ;  not  knowing  that  they  understood  it  was  the 
King,  whereupon  his  Majesty  was  pleased  to  give  them 
his  hand  to  kiss,  and  bid  them  arise,  and  said   he  had 
received  from  my  Lord  such  a  character  of  their  loyalty 
and  readiness   in   those  dangers   to   assist   him   and  his 
friends,   that   he  never  would   be  unmindful  of  me  and 
mine  ;  and  the  next  word  after  was,  '  Where  is  the  private 

*  I,e,  about  3  a.m. 


* 


Up  I 


i( 


i 


VI 


« 


70 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


place  my  lord  tells  me  of  ?'  which  being  already  prepared 
and  shewed  him,  he  went  into  it,  and  when  come  forth, 
said  it   was  the  best  place  he  was   ever  in.     He  then 
entered  my  Lord's  bedchamber,  and  sat  down  on  the  bed- 
side, and  Mr.  Whitgreave  give  him  a  little  biscuit-bread 
and  a  glass  of  sac.     While  he  thus  sat,  his  nose  fell  a- 
bleeding,  and  he  then  took  out  of  his  pocket  an  old  coarse 
clout,  which  the  Penderels  had   given  him   instead  of  a 
handkerchief.      Mr.    Huddlestone  then  gave  him   a   fair 
handkerchief,  and  kept  the  bloody  clout  to  himself,  and 
afterwards  gave   it  to  his   kinswoman,  Mrs.  Brathwayte, 
who  kept  it  with  great  veneration,  as  a  remedy  for  the 
King's  Evil.     His  Majesty  at  this  time  wore  a  long,  white 
steeple-crowned  hat,  without  any  other  lining  than  grease, 
both  sides  of  the  brim  so  doubled  with  handling  that  they 
looked  like  two  spouts ;  a  leathern  doe-skin  doublet  full  of 
holes,  with  pewter  buttons   and  half  black  with  grease 
above  the  sleeves,  collar,  and  waist ;  an  old  green  wood- 
reve's  coat,  threadbare  and  patched  in  most  places,  with  a 
pair  of  breeches  of  the  same  cloth  and  in  the  same  con- 
dition, the  flaps  hanging  down  loose  to  the  middle  of  his 
legs  ;  a  pair  of  his  own  flannel  riding  stockings  with  the 
tops  icut  off",  because  embroidered  ;  and  a  pair  of  stirrup 
stockings  of  grey  yarn  ^  lent  him  at  Madeley,  much  darned 
and  clouted,  especially  about  the  knees.     His  shoes  had 
been  cobbled  with  leather  patches  both  on  the  soles  and 
the  seams,  and  the  upper  leathers  so  cut  and  slashed,  to 
adapt  them  to  his  feet,  that  they  could  no  longer  defend 
them  either  from  water  or  dirt.     This  exotic  and  deformed 
dress,  added  to  his  short  hair  by  the  ears,  his  face  coloured 
brown   by  walnut-tree    leaves,^  and  a   rough  thorn-stick, 
crooked  three  or  four  ways,  though  not  very  strong,  had 
so  metamorphosed   him   he   became   scarcely  discernible 

*  Green? 

*  TAg  Exact  Narrative^  etc.  (1660),  says  that  Mrs.  Lane  sent  the  King 
some  walnut-leaves,  boyled  in  spring  water  "for  that  purpose  while  he  was 
at  Mr.  Whitgreave's.'* 


THE  KING'S  DRESS 


71 


who  he  was,  evenlto  those  that  had  been  before  acquainted 
with  his  person  and  conversant  with  him.  After  this,  the 
King  went  to  the  fireside,  sat  down  in  a  chair,  and  gave 
Mr.  Huddlestone  leave  to  pull  off  his  stocki  ngs  and  shoes, 
stuffed  within  with  white  paper,  which  witli  walking  had 
become  rolled  between  his  stockings  and  his  skin,  so 
that  it  had  increased  the  soreness  of  his  skin,  already 
inflamed  by  the  wet  and  gravelly  state  of  the  stockings. 
Having  cleansed  and  dried  his  Majesty's  feet  with 
warm  cloths,  and  given  him  new  worsted  stockings,  he 
changed  his  coarse  noggen  or  hurden  shirt,  patched  at 
the  neck  and  wrists,  for  a  flaxen  one  of  his  own.  His 
Majesty  refused  to  wear  the  gloves  offered  him  by  Mr. 
Huddleston,  and  kept  his  stick  in  his  hand.  Being  now 
refreshed,  the  King  said  cheerfully  :  *  I  am  now  ready 
for  another  march,  and  if  it  shall  please  Crod  once  more 
to  place  me  in  the  head  of  but  eight  or  ten  thousand 
good  men,  of  one  mind,  resolved  to  fight,  I  shall 
not  doubt  to  drive  these  rogues  out  of  my  kingdom." 
After  an  hour  or  two's  discourse  with  my  Lord  Wilmot, 
in  deliberation  of  what  seemed  most  expedient  in  the 
present  conjuncture,  it  being  now  about  five;  in  the  morn- 
ing, his  Majesty  desired  to  repose  on  his  bed,  and  the 
Pendrells,  all  but  John,  were  dismissed  home.  For  the 
better  security  of  his  Majesty's  retreat,  IW!r.  Whitgreave 
sent  forth  all  his  servants  betimes  in  the  morning,  each  to 
their  several  employments  abroad,  except  the  cookmaid,  a 
Catholic,  who  dressed  their  diet ;  and  it  was  further  pre- 
tended that  Mr.  Huddleston  had  a  cavalier  friend  or 
relation,  newly  escaped  from  Worcester,  wlo  lay  privately 
in  his  chamber,  unwilling  to  be  seen  ;  so  ihat  this  grand 
secret  was  imparted  to  none  in  the  house  but  Mr.  Whit- 
greave, Mr.  Huddleston,  and  Mr.  Whitgreave's  mother, 
whom  my  Lord  Wilmot  presented  to  the  iJCing ;  and  she 
kneeling  down  to  kiss  hand ;  he  most  graciously  saluted 
her,  and  confided  in  her.  At  that  time,  Jlr.  Huddleston 
had  with  him  at  Moseley,  under  his  tuition,  young  Sir 


i'     \ 


' 


72 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


ROMAN   CATHOLICS 


73 


i 


iH 


tjl 


John  Preston  and  two  other  youths,  Mr.  Thomas  Palin, 
and  Mr.  Francis  Reynolds,  nephews  to  Mr.  Whitgreave. 
While  the  King  stayed,  the>-  had  leave  to  play,  and  were 
placed  at  several  windows  in  the  garrets,  whence  they  had 
a  prospect  of  all  the  passages  from  all  parts  of  the  house, 
with  strict  charge  given  them  to  bring  timely  notice  of 
any,  whether  soldiers  or  others,  that  came  near  the  house  ; 
and  herein  the  boys  were  as  exact  and  vigilant  as  any  senti- 
nel could  be  on  his  guard.  Sir  John  Preston  one  night  at 
supper  with  the  other  boys  said,  *  Eat  hard,  boys,  for  we 
have  been  on  the  life-guard  and  hard  duty  this  day 
[Monday] ' ;  (more  truly  spoken  than  he  was  aware.)  It 
is  now  Monday,  in  the  forenoon,  and  John  is  ordered  to  go 
to  Bentley,  with  directions  to  Colonel  Lane  to  send  my 
Lord's  horses  at  night  to  Moseley  to  convey  his  lordship 
back  to  Bentley.  His  Majesty  ate  constantly  in  Mr. 
Huddleston's  chamber ;  Mr.  Whitgreave  himself  handing 
up  all  the  dishes  from  below  stairs  to  Mr.  Huddleston's 
door,  and  Mr.  Huddleston  placing  them  on  the  table. 
When  all  things  were  brought  up,  old  Mrs.  Whitgreave  was 
called  in,  and  commanded  to  sit  down  and  carve,  whilst 
Mr.  Whitgreave  and  Mr.  Huddleston  waited.  This  day 
his  Majesty  spent  partly  in  reposing  and  refreshing  himself 
from  the  fatigues  of  his  former  journeys  and  hardships, 
and  partly  in  recapitulating  the  late  transactions,  and 
taking  a  view  of  the  present  posture  of  affairs.  He 
recounted  his  proceedings  in  Scotland,  and  described  the 
methods  of  his  march  thence  to  Worcester,  and  he  enquired 
how  the  gentlemen  of  the  county  were  affected  towards 
him,  and  sent  Mr.  Whitgreave  to  Wolverhampton  to  get 
intelligence  of  affairs.  In  the  morning,  Mr.  Whitgreave's 
study  door  being  open,  his  Majesty  was  pleased  to  go  in, 
and  for  diversion  to  look  forth  of  it  into  the  court  and 
common  road,  whence  he  haii  the  sight  of  divers  of  his  own 
poor  soldiers,  and  some  of  his  own  regiment.  Some  of  these 
had  in  their  hands  pease  in  straw,  gathered  from  the  field- 
sides   as  they  came  along  ;  others  were  eating  cabbage- 


stalks  and  leaves  which  were  thrown  out  of  gardens  into 
the  highway,  not  daring  so  much   as  to   beg   for  food  ; 
others,  again,  wounded  and  maimed,  sougit  for  relief  at 
the  door,  whose  sores,  Mrs.  Whitgreave,  with  great  tender- 
ness and  charity,  dressed.     All  the  night  before  his  Majesty 
lay  on  the  bed,  Mr.  Huddleston  watching  within,  and  Mr. 
Whitgreave   without.     Before   the  Lord   ^Vilmot   betook 
himself  to  bed,  he  conferred  with    Mr.   "W  hitgreave,  and 
says :  *  If  it  should  so  fall  out  that  the  rebiils  have  intelli- 
gence of  your  harbouring  any  of   the  King's  party,  and 
should  therefore  put  you  to  any  torture  for  confession,  be 
sure  you  discover  me  first,  which  may  hapl}'  in  such  a  case 
satisfy  them,  and  preserve  the  King.'     At  night  my  Lord 
Wilmot's  horses  arrived,  as  was  appointed  from  Bentley, 
whither  his  lordship  returned,  with  further  directions  that 
Colonel  Lane  should,  the  next  night  followinjy,  himself  bring 
the  horses  back  to  Moseley  in  order  to  the  conveyance  of 
his  Majesty  to  Bentley,  the  King  intending  to  take  the 
benefit,  proffered  to  my  Lord  Wilmot,  of  Mis.  Jane  Lane's 
pass,  to  quit  the  country.     The  next  day,  Tuesday,  the 
King  conversed  for  the  most  part  with  Mr.  Huddleston, 
Mr.  Whitgreave  and  his  mother   being  employed  in  the 
discharge  of  their  several  duties  towards   his  Majesty's 
accommodation    and    safeguard    below    stairs.     He   was 
pleased  to  enquire  how  Roman  Catholics  I  ved  under  the 
present  usurped  Government.     Mr.  Huddleston  told  him 
that  they  were  persecuted  both  on  account  cf  their  religion 
and  their  loyalty  ;  yet  his  Majesty  should  see  that  they 
did  not  neglect  the  duties  of  their  Church  ;  hereupon  he 
carried  him  upstairs  and  shewed  him  the  chapel,— little, 
but  neat  and    decent.     The    King,   looking   respectfully 
upon   the   altar,  and   regarding  the  crucifix  and   candle- 
sticks upon  it,  said,  he  had  an  altar,  crucifix,  and  silver 
candlesticks  of  his  own,  till  my  Lord  of  Holland  brake 
them,  which,  added  the  King,  *he  hath  now  paid    for.' 
His  Majesty  likewise  spent  some  time  in   perusing  Mr. 
Huddleston's  books,  amongst  which,  attentively  reading  a 


74 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


Hi 


Mi 


111 


short  manuscript  by  Mr.  Richard  Huddleston,  a  Benedic- 
tine monk,  entitled  *  A  Short  and  Plain  Way  to  the  Faith 
and  Church/  he  said:  'I  have  not  seen  anything    more 
plain  and  clear  upon  this  subject     The  arguments  here 
drawn  in  succession  are  so  conclusive,  I  do  not  conceive 
how  they  can  be  denied.*     He  also  took  a  view  of   Mr. 
TurbervilFs  catechism,  and  said,  *it  was  a  pretty  book, 
and  he  would  take  it  along  with  him/     Mrs.  Whitgreave 
was  told  by  a  country-man  that  came  to  her  house,  that  he 
heard  the  King,  upon  his  retreat,  had  beaten  his  enemies 
at  Warrington  Bridge,  and  that  there  were  three  Kings 
come  in  to  his  assistance  ;  which  story  she  related  to  his 
Majesty,  who  smilingly  said  :  *  Surely  they  are  the  three 
Kings  of  CoUen  come  down  from  Heaven,  for  I  can  imagine 
none  else/    This  afternoon,  Tuesday,  the  King  inclining  to 
sleep,  on  his  bed  in  the  parlour  chamber,  as  Mr.  Whitgreave 
was  watching  at  the  window,  one  of  the  neighbours  came 
running  in,  who  told  the  maid  soldiers  were  coming  to 
search,  who  thereupon  came  running  to  the  stairs'  head, 
and  cried :    *  Soldiers,  soldiers   are  coming '  ;    which    his 
Majesty  hearing,  presently  started  out  of  his  bed  and  run 
to  his  privacy,  where  Mr.  Whitgreave  secured  him  the  best 
he  could,  and  leaving  him,  went  forth  into  the  street  to 
meet  the  soldiers,  who  as  soon  as  they  saw  him,  and  knew 
who    he   was,   were    ready    to   pull  him   in    pieces,  and 
take  him  away  with   them,   saying  he  was   come  from 
Worcester  fight ;  but  after  much  dispute,  and  the  neigh- 
bours also  telling  them  that  he  was  not  there,  being  very  ill 
a  great  while,  they  let  him  go ;  but  till  he  saw  them  clearly 
all  gone  forth  from  the  town  he  returned  not  to  release 
the  King,  and  then  told  him  of  his  stay,  which  he  thought 
long,  and  then  began  to  be  very  cheerful  again.     In  the 
interim,  while   Mr.  Whitgreave   was   disputing    with  the 
soldiers,  one  of  them  called  Southall,   the  great   priest- 
catcher  and  Col.  Lane's  and  Mr.  Vernon's  true  cavalier  in 
the  plotting  time,  came  in  the  fold,  and  asked  a  smith,  as 
he  was  shoeing  horses  there,  if  he  could  tell  where  the  King 


CHARLES  LEAVES   MOSELEY 


75 


»! 


was,  and  he  should  have  a  thousand  pound*;  for  his  pains, 
as  the  smith,  called  Holbeard,  since  sevei-al  times  hath 
told  Mr.  Whitgreave  and  others.  Mr.  Whitgreave  and 
Mr.  Huddleston  then  attended  the  King  in  his  chamber. 
Mr.  Huddleston,  knowing  that  the  King  was  acquainted 
with  his  character  and  function,  said :  '  Y(»ur  Majesty  is, 
in  some  sort,  in  the  same  condition  with  me  low, — liable  to 
dangers  and  perils :  but  I  hope  God,  tha ;  brought  you 
hither,  will  preserve  you  here,  and  that  you  will  be  as  safe 
in  this  place  as  in  any  castle  of  your  dominions.*  The 
King,  addressing  himself  to  both  gentlemen,  replied  :  *  If 
it  please  God  I  come  to  my  crown,  both  you  and  all  of 
your  persuasion,  shall  have  as  much  liberty  as  any  of  my 
subjects.*  At  twelve  o'clock  Mr.  Whitgreave  went  to  the 
Colonel,  who  waited  at  the  place  appointed  and  took  Mr. 
Francis  Reynolds  with  him  to  hold  the  horses  while  the 
Colonel  went  up  to  the  house  with  him,  wh<5  arriving,  Mr. 
Whitgreave  brought  him  to  the  orchard  stile,  where  he  stay  ^ 
and  expect  till  the  King  came:  of  which  he  being 
acquainted,  he  sent  Mr.  Whitgreave  for  his  mother  to  come 
to  take  leave  of  him  ;  who  bringing  with  her  some  raisins, 
almonds,  and  other  sweet  meats,  he  ate  some,  and  took 
some  with  him  :  afterwards,  they  all  kneeling  down,  and 
praying  Almighty  God  to  bless,  prosper,  and  preserve  him, 
and  begging  the  King's  pardon  for  any  mistakes  they 
might  have  committed  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty, 
through  ignorance  or  inadvertence,  his  Majesty  was 
pleased  to  salute  Mrs.  Whitgreave  and  give  her  thanks  for 
his  kind  entertainment,  and  to  give  his  hand  to  kiss  to 
Mr.  Huddleston  and  Mr.  Whitgreave,  sayin?  if  it  pleased 
God  to  restore  him,  he  would  never  be  unmi  ndful  of  them, 
he  took  leave  and  went,  conducted  by  the  ':wo  gentlemen 
to  the  colonel,  at  the  corner  of  the  orchard,  and  thence  to 
the  horses,  where,  he  having  got  on  horseback,  John 
Penderel  holding  the  stirrup,  they  kneeled,  and  kissed  his 
hand    again,   offering    all    prayers    for  his    safety.      Mr. 

*  [j./.  should  stay  ?] 


d 


76 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


:'^ 


I ' 


ii 


I 

1 


Huddleston,  reflecting  on  the  coldness  of  the  season  and 
thinness  of  his  Majesty's  disguise,  asked  him  to  accept  of 
his  cloak,  which  his  Majesty  put  on,  and  wore  to  Bentley. 
Before  he  went,  his  Majesty  told  them,  he  was  very 
sensible  of  the  dangers  they  might  incur  by  entertaining 
him,  if  it  should  become  known  to  the  rebels  ;  therefore  he 
desired  them  to  be  very  careful  of  themselves,  and  gave 
them  directions  to  repair  to  a  Merchant  in  London,  who 
should  have  order  to  furnish  them  with  moneys  and  means 
of  conveyance  beyond  sea,  if  they  thought  fit.  That  night 
the  King  came  to  Bentley  and  was  received  by  Wilmot, 
and  after  a  little  meal  and  conference  with  my  Lord  and 
the  Colonel,  went  to  bed,  and  at  break  of  day  on 
Wednesday  morning  was  called  by  the  Colonel,  who 
brought  a  new  suit  and  cloak  of  country  grey  cloth  as 
near  as  could  be  contrived  like  the  holiday  suit  of  a 
farmer's  son,  putting  twenty  pounds  in  the  pockets  for 
journey  expenses :  here  his  Majesty  quitted  his  leather 
doublet  and  green  breeches  for  this  new  grey  suit,  and 
forsook  his  former  name  Will  Jones  for  that  of  Will 
Jackson.  The  King,  as  a  tenant's  son,  was  ordered  to 
ride  before  Mrs.  Lane,  as  her  attendant ;  Mr.  Henry 
Lassels  to  ride  single,  and  Mr.  John  Petre  of  Horton, 
Bucks.,  and  his  wife,  to  ride  in  the  same  company  ;  Mr. 
Petre  and  his  wife  little  suspecting  Will  Jackson  their 
fellow-traveller  to  be  King  of  Great  Britain.  His  Majesty 
thus  refreshed  and  thus  accoutred  with  all  necessaries  for 
a  journey  in  the  designed  equipage,  after  he  had  taken 
leave  of  my  Lord  Wilmot,  and  agreed  on  their  meeting 
within  few  days  after  at  Mr.  George  Norton's  house  at 
Leigh  near  Bristol,  the  Colonel  conveyed  him  a  back  way 
into  the  stable,  where  he  fitted  his  stirrups,  and  gave  him 
some  instructions  for  better  acting  the  part  of  Will  Jackson, 
mounted  him  on  a  good  double  gelding,  and  directed  him 
to  come  to  the  gate  of  the  house,  which  he  punctually 
performed  with  his  hat  under  his  arm.  By  this  time  it 
was  twilight,  and  old  Mrs.  Lane  (who  knew  nothing  of 


THE  KING'S   ILL  MANNERS 


77 


this  great  secret)  would  needs  see  her  beloved  daughter 
take  horse,  which  whilst  she  was  intendinof,  the  Colonel 
said  to  the  King,  *Will,  thou  must  give  my  sister  thy 
hand!'  But  his  Majesty  (unacquainted  \\ith  such  little 
offices)  offered  his  hand  the  contrary  way,  which  the  old 
gentlewoman  taking  notice  of,  laughed,  and  asked  the 
Colonel  her  son  what  goodly  horseman  her  daughter  had 
got  to  ride  before  her."  ]  "  But  we  had  not  gone  two  hours 
on  our  way  but  the  mare  I  rode  on  cast  a  shoe  ;  so  we  were 
forced  to  ride  to  get  another  shoe  at  a  scattering  village 

whose  name  begins  with  something  like  Long }     And 

as  I  was  holding  my  horse's  foot,  I  asked  the  smith  what 
news  ?  He  told  me,  that  there  was  no  news,  that  he  knew 
of,  since  the  good  news  of  the  beating  of  1:he  rogues  the 
Scots.  I  asked  him,  whether  there  was  none  of  the 
English  taken,  that  joined  with  the  Scots  ?  He  answered, 
that  he  did  not  hear  that  that  rogue  Charles  Stewart  was 
taken  ;  but  some  of  the  others,  he  said,  were  taken,  but  not 
Charles  Stewart.  I  told  him,  that  if  that  rogue  were  taken, 
he  deserved  to  be  hanged,  more  than  all  the  rest,  for  bring- 
ing in  the  Scots.  Upon  which  he  said  that  I  spoke  like 
an  honest  man,  and  so  we  parted."  ^  [It  hath  been  said  that 
the  King  took  some  refreshment  at  Thori  Farm,  Ink- 
berrow,  thirteen  miles  south-east  of  Bromj  grove,  and  at 
the  intersection  of  the  roads,  at  Bearby,]  *  about  a  mile 
before  Stratford-on-Avon,  a  poor  old  woman  that  was 
gleaning  in  a  field,  cried  out,  of  her  own  a  ccord,  without 
occasion  given  her ; '  Master,  don't  you  see  a  troop  of  horse 
before  you  ? '  We  espied  upon  the  way  a  troop  of  horse, 
whose  riders  were  alighted,  and  the  horse:;  eating  some 
grass  by  the  wayside ;  staying  there,  as  I  thought,  while 
their  muster-master  provided  them  quarters      Mrs.  Lane's 

*  Bromsgrove. 

*  "  *  Perhaps,'  said  the  King,  *  he  has  got  by  by-ways  back  into  Scotland.' 
•  No,  that  is  not  very  likely  ;  he  rather  lurks  secretly  som  jwhere  in  England, 
and  I  wish  I  knew  where  he  were,  for  I  might  get  a  tiousand  pounds  by 
taking  him'  .  .  .  upon  the  road  the  King  told  his  mistress  what  discourse  he 
had  had  with  the  smit^i."    (Bate,  Elmchm  Motuum,  etc.) 


""I lll|lll...l|i»H 


■MWMDM 


i-|iil>iiiiiaii 


78 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


BRISTOL 


79 


i 


It 


Sister's  husband,^  who  went  along  with  her  as  far  as  Strat- 
ford, seeing  this  troop  of  horse  just  in  our  way,  said,  that 
for  his  part  he  would  not  go  by  them,  for  he  had  been  once 
or  twice  beaten  by  some  of  the  Parliament  soldiers,  and  he 
would  not  run  the  venture  again.  I  hearing  him  say  so, 
begged  Mrs.  Lane,  softly  in  her  ear,  that  we  might  not 
turn  back,  but  go  on,  if  they  should  see  us  turn.  But  all 
she  could  say  in  the  world  would  not  do,  but  her  brother- 
in-law  turned  quite  round,  and  went  into  Stratford  another 
way,"  [by  the  road  to  the  left]  ^  "  the  troop  of  horse  being 
then  just  getting  on  horseback,  about  twice  twelve-score 
off:  "  [crossing  the  Avon]  "  we  did  meet  the  troop  "  ["  who 
opened  right  and  left  to  let  them  pass,  and  being  saluted 
by  them,  only  saluted  them  again,  civilly  giving  hat  for  hat.^ 
Meanwhile,  Lord  Wilmot,  Colonel  Lane,  and  Robert  Swan 
my  lord*s  servant,  took  horse,  with  hawk  and  spaniels 
with  them  for  a  disguise,  and  arrived  that  night  at  Sir 
Clement  Fisher's  house  at  Packington.  At  Stratford"] 
"  her  brother  and  we  parted,  he  going  his  way,  and  we  ours 
towards  Long  Marston,*  where  we  lay  at  a  kinsman's,^  I 
think,  of  Mrs.  Lane's  ;  neither  the  said  kinsman,  nor 
her  aforementioned  brother-in-law,  knowing  who  I  was." 
["  Here  Will  Jackson,  being  in  the  kitchen,  in  pursuance 
of  his  disguise,  and  the  cook-maid  busy  in  providing 
supper  for  her  master's  friends,  she  desired  him  to  wind  up 
the  Jack.  Will  Jackson  was  obedient,  and  attempted  it, 
but  hit  not  the  right  way,  which  made  the  maid  in  some 
passion  ask  :  *  What  countryman  are  you,  that  you  know 
not  how  to  wind  up  a  Jack  ?  '  Will  Jackson  answered  :  *  I 
am  a  poor  tenant's  son  of  Colonel  Lane  in  Staffordshire ; 

>  Mr.  Jo.  Petre. 

*  The  road  from  Bearley  to  Snitterfield,  called  King's  Lane,  turning  to 
the  right  near  Snitterfield,  and  regaining  the  road  they  had  left  close  to 
Stratford. 

*  Pere  Cyprien  says  they  asked  Demoiselle  Lane  where  she  lived,  and 
whether  she  had  seen  the  King  of  Scots. 

*  Six  miles  south  of  Stratford-on-Avon. 

*  Mr.  John  Tombs,  or  Tomes. 


we  seldom  have  roast  meat,  but  when  we  have  we 
don't  make  use  of  a  jack ;  *  ^  which  in  some  measure 
asswaged  the  maid's  indignation.  On  Thursday  morning 
II  September,  the  King  with  Mrs.  Lane  and  Mr.  Lassels 
rose  early,  and  after  Mrs.  Lane  had  taken  leave  of  Mr. 
Tombs,  they  took  horse,  and  without  an/  considerable 
accident  rode  by  Chipping  Campden  ;  ^  «ind  came  that 
night  to  the  *  Crown '  inn  ^  in  Cirencester,  in  Gloucester- 
shire, about  thirty-six  miles  from  Long  Marston.  After 
supper,  a  good  bed  was  provided  for  Mr.  Lassels,  and  a 
truckle-bed  for  Will  Jackson  in  the  same  chamber ;  but 
Mr.  Lassels  (after  the  chamberlain  had  left  them)  laid  his 
Majesty  in  the  best  bed  and  himself  in  the  other,  and  used 
the  like  due  observance,  when  any  opportunity  would  allow 
it.  The  next  day  being  Friday,  the  Royal  Traveller  with 
his  attendants  left  Cirencester,  and  by  the  way  of  Chipping 
Sodbury,  and  entering  Bristol  by  Lawford's  Gate,  crossed 
the  Avon  at  the  Bridge  [or  by  Rownham  Ferry?].  They 
were  accordingly  to  ride  quite  through  the  city  of  Bristol ;  a 
place  and  people  the  King  had  been  so  wdl  acquainted 
with  that  he  could  not  but  send  his  eyes  abroad  to  view 
the  great  alterations  which  had  been  made  :here,  after  his 
departure  thence ;  and  when  he  rode  n  sar  the  place 
where  the  great  fort  had  stood,  he  could  not  forbear 
putting  his  horse  out  of  the  way,  and  rode  with  his 
mistress  behind  him  about  it ;  and  once  tiiey  lost  their 
way,  till  better  enquiry  informed  them  ;  and  passing  out 
at  Redcliffe  Gate,  and  keeping  on  the  lefi:  bank  of  the 
Avon,  they  arrived  that  evening,  sooner  Ihan  usual,  at 
Mr.  Norton's  house  at  Abbots  Leigh,  some  three  miles 
from  Bristol ;  and  it  being  on  a  holiday  tiey  saw  many 
people  about  a  bowling-green  that  was  before  the  door, 

*  Dauncy  says,  "The  maid  .  .  .  asking  him  where  he  was  born,  and 
what  trade  he  was,  he  answers,  at  Brumingham,  and  a  Navlor's  son." 

*  Perhaps  they  rode    along  the   Fosseway  from  Sto  v-in-the-Wold  and 
Northleach. 

'  Probably  what  is  now  the  "  Sun,"  an  older  inn,  of  mere  retired  situation, 
still  having  a  "  King  Charles'  Room."     (Fea.) 


f. 


IJ 


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fl 


80 


CHARLES  II   AND   HIS  COURT 


"I 


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and  the  first  man  the  King  sav/  was  Dr.  Gorges,  a  chaplain 
of  his  own,  who  was  allied  to  the  gentleman  of  the 
house,  and  was  sitting  upon  the  rails  to  see  how  the 
bowlers  played.  Will  Jackson  walked  with  his  horse  into 
the  stable  until  his  mistress  could  provide  for  his  retreat."] 
"Mrs.  Lane  called  the  butler  of  the  house,  a  very 
honest  fellow,  whose  name  was  Pope,  and  had  served  as 
falconer  to  Tom  Jermyn,  a  groom  of  my  bed-chamber, 
when  I  was  a  boy  at  Richmond  ;  and  she  bade  him  take 
care  of  Will  Jackson,  for  that  was  my  name,  as  having  been 
lately  sick  of  an  ague,  whereof  she  said  I  was  still  weak, 
and  not  quite  recovered.  And  the  truth  is,  my  late  fatigues 
and  want  of  meat  had  indeed  made  me  look  a  little  pale. 
Besides  this,  Pope  had  been  a  trooper  in  the  King  my 
father's  army ;  but  I  was  not  to  be  known  in  that  house 
for  any  thing  but  Mrs.  Lane's  servant."  ["  By  this  artifice 
she  caused  a  good  bed  to  be  still  provided  for  him,  and 
the  best  meat  to  be  sent,  which  she  often  carried  herself  to 
hinder  others  doing  it.  She  desired  her  cousin  that  a 
chamber  might  be  provided  for  him,  and  a  good  fire  made, 
for  that  he  would  go  early  to  bed,  and  was  not  fit  to  be 
below  stairs ;  and  Mrs.  Norton's  maid,  Margaret  Rider, 
who  was  commanded  to  be  his  nurse-keeper,  made  William 
a  Carduus-posset  and  was  veiy  careful  of  him."]  "Pope 
the  butler  took  great  care  of  me  that  night,  I  not  eating, 
as  I  should  have  done,  with  the  servants,  on  account  of  my 
not  being  well."  ["  When  it  was  supper-time,  there  being 
broth  brought  to  the  table,  Mrs.  Lane  filled  a  little  dish  and 
desired  the  butler  who  waited  at  the  table  to  carry  that 
dish  of  porridge  to  William  and  tell  him  that  he  should  have 
some  meat  sent  him  presently.  The  butler  carried  the 
porridge  into  the  chamber  with  a  napkin  and  spoon  and 
bread,  and  spoke  kindly  to  the  young  man  who  was  willing 
to  be  eating.i  Dr.  Gorges,  the  King's  chaplain,  supped 
with  them,  and  being  a  man  of  a  cheerful  conversation, 

*  Clarendon  makes    Pope  recognize  the  King  here,   but  compare  his 
Majesty's  own  account. 


THE   KING   IN   DANGER  gi 

asked  Mrs.  Lane  many  questions  concerning  William   of 
whom  he  saw  she  was  so  careful  by  sendirg  up  meat  to 
him ;  'how  long  his  ague  had  been  gone,  and  whether  he 
had  purged  since  it  left  him  ? '  and  the  lilce ;    to  which 
she  gave  such  answers  as  occurred.     The  doctor,  from  the 
final  prevalence  of  the  parliament,  had,  as  many  others  of 
that  function  had  done,  declined  his  profession,  and  pre- 
tended to  study  physic.    As  soon  as  supper  was  done  out 
of  good  nature,  and  without  telling  any  body.  :ie  went  to  see 
William.     The  King  saw  him  coming  into  the  chamber 
and  withdrew  to  the  inside  of  the  bed.  that  he  might  be 
furthest  from  the  candle ;  and  the  doctor  came  and  sat  down 
by  him,  and  felt  his  pulse,  and  asked  him  many  questions 
which  he  answered  in    as    few  words   as   was   possible' 
and  expressing  great  inclination  to  go  to  his  bsd  ;  to  which 
the  doctor  left  him,  and  went  to  Mrs.  Lane,  and  told  her 
that  he  had  been  with  William,  and  that  he  would  do  well 
and  advised  her  what  she  should  do  if  his  agi.e  returned."! 
The  next  morning  I  arose  pretty  early,  hiving  a  very 
good  stomach,  and  went  to  the  buttery  hat.h  to  get  my 
breakfast    where  I  found  Pope  and  two  or  three  other 

butter,  to  which  he  gave  us  very  good  ale  anc  sack.  And 
as  I  was  sitting  there,  there  was  one  that  looked  like 
a  country-fellow  sat  just  by  me,  who,  talking,  gave  so 
pmicular  an  account  of  the  battle  of  Worcester,  to  the 
rest  of  the  company,  that  I  concluded  he  must  be  one  of 
Cromwell's  soldiers.  But  I  asking  him,  how  he  came  to 
give  so  good  an  account  of  that  battle .'     He  told  me  he 

one  Colonel  King's  regiment.  But  questioning  him  further 
mSTo  ::  ''  '''  '^^'^  ^"  ''^  regiment' ,f  guards,  i^' 
battle.  I  asked  him  what  kind  of  a  man  ]  was  >  To 
wlach  he  answered  by  describing  exactly  both  my  clothes 
and  ^y  horse;  and  then  looking  upon  me.  he  tJra.  ha 
the  King  was  at  least  three  fingers  taller  thaa  L     Upon 


1  I 


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82 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


which  I  made  what  haste  I  could  out  of  the  buttery,  for 
fear  he  should  indeed  know  me,  as  being  more  afraid  when 
I  knew  he  was  one  of  our  own  soldiers,  than  when  I  took 
him  for  one  of  the  enemies.     So  Pope  and  I  went  into  the 
hall,  and  just  as  we  came  into  it  Mrs.  Norton  was  coming 
by  through  it ;  upon  which,  I  plucking  off  my  hat,  and 
standing  with  my  hat  in  my  hand,  as  she  past  by,  that 
Pope  looked  very  earnestly  in  my  face.     But  I  took  no 
notice  of  it,  but  put  on  my  hat  again,  and  went  away, 
walking  out  of  the  house  into  the  field.     I  had  not  been 
out  half  an  hour,  but  coming  back  I  went  up  into  the 
chamber  where  I  lay;   and  just  as  I  came  thither,  Mr. 
Lassells  came  to  me,  and  in  a  little  trouble  said,  *what 
shall  we  do  ?     I  am  afraid  Pope  knows  you ;  for  he  says 
very  positively  to  me  that  it  is  you,  but  I  have  denied  it' 
Upon  which  I  presently,  without  more  ado,  asked  him, 
'whether  he  was  a  very  honest  man  or  no?*     Whereto 
he  answering  me,  that  he  knew  him  to  be  50  honest  a 
fellow  that  he  durst  trust  him  with   his  life,  as  having 
been   always  on   our  side,   I   thought  it  better  to  trust 
him,  than  go  away  leaving  that  suspicion  upon  him  ;  and 
thereupon  sent  for  Pope,  and  told  him,  that  I  was  very 
glad  to  meet  him  there,  and  would  trust  him  with  my  life 
as  an  old  acquaintance.     Upon  which,  being  a  discreet 
fellow,  he  asked  me  what  I  intended  to  do  }  '  for,'  says  he, 
'I  am  extremely  happy  I  know  you,  for  otherways  you 
might  run  great  danger  in  this  house.     For  though  my 
master  and  mistress  are  good  people,  yet  there  are  at  this 
time  one  or  two  in  it  that  are  very  great  rogues ;  and 
I  think  I  can  be  useful  to  you  in  any  thing  you  will 
command  me/     Upon  which  I  told  him  my  design  of 
getting  a  ship,  if  possible,  at  Bristol ;  and  to  that  end, 
bade  him  go  that  very  day  immediately  to  Bristol,  to  see 
if  there  were  any  ships  going  either  to  Spain  or  France, 
that  I  might  get  a  passage  away  in.     I  told  him  also  that 
my  Lord  Wilmot  was  coming  to  meet  me  here,  this  very 
day.    Upon  which  Pope  told  me,  that  it  was  most  fortunate 


DEPARTURE   FROM   BRISTOL 


83 


that  he  knew  me,  and  had  heard  this  from  me ;  for  that  if 
my  Lord  Wilmot  should  have  come  hither,  he  would  have 
been  most  certainly  known  to  several  peopl  -  in  the  house  ; 
and  therefore  he  would  go.     And  accordiagly  went  out,' 
and  met  my  Lord  Wilmot  a  mile  or  two  ofi  the  house,  not 
far  off,  where  he  lodged  him  till  it  was  night,  and  then 
brought  him  hither,  by  a  back-door,  into  my  chamber ;  I 
still  passing  for  a  serving-man,  and  Lassells  and  I  lay  in 
one  chamber.     So  soon  after  Pope  had  been  at  Bristol  to 
enquire  for  a  ship,  but  could  hear  of  none  ready  to  depart 
beyond  sea  sooner  than  within  a  month,  which  was  too 
long  for  me  to  stay  thereabout,  I  betook  myself  to  the 
advising  afresh  with  my  Lord  Wilmot  and  :?ope  what  was 
to  be  done.     And  the  latter  telling  me  that  there  lived 
somewhere  in  that  country,  upon  the  edge;  of  Somerset- 
shire, at  Trent,   within   two   miles    of   Shsrbum,   Frank 
Windham,  the  Knight  Marshal's  brother,  who  being  my 
old  acquaintance,  and  a  very  honest  man,  I  resolved  to  go 
to  his  house.    But  the  night  before  we  were  1:o  go  away,  we 
had  a  misfortune  that  might  have  done  us  much  prejudice ; 
for  Mrs.  Norton,  who  was  big  with  child,  fill  into  labour, 
and  miscarried  of  a  dead  child,  and  was  very  ill ;  so  that 
we  could  not  tell  how  in  the  world  to  find  an  excuse  for 
Mrs.   Lane  to  leave  her  cousin  in  that  condition;   and 
rndeed  it  was  not  safe  to  stay  longer  then;,  where  there 
was  so  great  resort  of  disaffected  idle  people.     At  length 
consulting  with  Mr.  Lassells,  I  thought  thcj  best  way  to 
counterfeit  a  letter  from  her  father's  house,  o  d  Mr.  Lane's, 
to  tell  her  that  her  father  was  extremely  ill,  an  d  commanded 
her  to  come  away  immediately,  for  fear  that  she  should 
not  otherways  find  him  alive  ;  which  letter  Pope  delivered 
so  well,  while  they  were  all  at  supper,  and  Mrs.  Lane 
playmg  her  part  so  dexterously,  that  ail  believed  old  Mr. 
Lane  to  be  indeed  in  great  danger,  and  gave  his  daughter 
the  excuse  to  go  away  with  me  the  very  next  morning 
early.      [«  While  his  Majesty  lay  here,  somew^hat  wearied 
with  imprisonment  in  his  chamber,  one  day  (when  his  ague 


\ 


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hi 


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84 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


'I 


might  be  supposed  to  be  in  intermission)  he  walked  down 
to  a  place  where  the  young  men  played  at  a  game  of  ball 
called  Fives,  where  his  Majesty  was  asked  by  one  of  the 
gamesters  if  he  could  play,  and  would  take  his  part  at  that 
game.  He  pleaded  unskilfulness  and  modestly  refused. 
On  Tuesday  morning,  i6  September,  his  Majesty's  being 
then  (as  was  pretended)  in  the  recess,  he  repaired  to  the 
stable,  and  there  gave  orders  for  making  ready  the  horses, 
and  then  it  was  signified  from  Mrs.  Lane  (though  before 
so  agreed),  that  Will  Jackson  should  ride  single  and  carry 
the  portmanteau.  Accordingly,  they  mounted,  being 
attended  part  of  the  way  by  one  of  Mr.  Norton's  men, 
as  a  guide ;  and  at  Castle  Cary  they  met  Mr.  Kirton,  a 
servant  of  the  King's  who  well  knew  the  Lord  Wilmot, 
who  had  no  other  disguise  than  the  hawk,  but  took  no 
notice  of  him  nor  suspected  the  King  to  be  there,  yet  that 
day  made  the  King  more  wary  of  having  the  Lord  Wilmot 
in  his  company  on  the  way.  Kirton,  however,  on  their 
being  made  known,  took  them  to  the  manor-house  of 
Castle  Cary  [or  his  brother's  house],  where  they  slept  that 
night."]  "  I  had  appointed  my  Lord  Wilmot  to  meet  me  at 
Trent,  whom  I  still  took  care  not  to  keep  with  me,  but  sent 
him  a  little  before,  or  left  to  come  after  me.  I  could  never 
get  my  Lord  Wilmot  to  put  on  any  disguise,  he  saying  that 
he  would  look  frightfully  in  it ;  and  therefore  did  never  put 
on  any."  ^  ["  The  appointed  hour  of  their  coming  to  Trent 
drawing  nigh,  Wyndham  and  his  wife,  as  if  to  take  a  walk, 
went  out  to  meet  them,  and  send  the  King  privately  into 
the  house  by  one  whom  they  had  chosen  for  that  purpose ; 
Jane  and  Lassels  in  the  mean  time  are  publicly  received  as 
relations,  who,  coming  from  a  place  far  distant,  were  to 
be  gone  next  day.  The  King  arrived  about  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  was  espied  by  the  Colonel  and  his 
wife  as  they  walked.     As  soon  as  his  Majesty  came  near 

*  Going  over  to  England  in  March,  1655,  ^^  did  adopt  the  disguise  of  a 
yellow  periwig,  but  nought  else ;  though  later  he  adopted  the  semblance  of  a 
grazier.    (Fea.) 


MRS.   LANE   LEAVES   THE   KING  85 

the  Colonel,  he  called  out,  '  Frank,  Frank,  how  dost  thou 
do  ? '  The  Colonel  instantly  conveyed  the  King  and  Mrs. 
Lane  into  the  Lady  Wyndham  his  mother's  Chamber.  In 
a  short  time  the  Colonel  brought  the  Lord  Wilmot  to 
the  King,  and  then  the  ladies  withdrew  into  the  parlour, 
having  first  agreed  to  call  Mrs.  Lane  cousin,  and  to 
entertain  her  with  the  same  familiarity  as  if  she  had 
been  their  nearest  relation.  That  day  she  stayed  at 
Trent,  and  the  next  morning  early  Mr.  Lissels  and  she 
departed."  i]  "  When  we  came  to  Trent,  m)^  Lord  Wilmot 
and  I  advised  with  Frank  Windham,  whether  he  had  any 
acquaintance  at  any  sea-town  upon  the  ccast  of  Dorset 
or  Devonshire;  who  told  me  that  he  \/as  very  well 
acquainted  with  Gyles  Strangways,  and  thcit  he  would  go 
directly  to  him,  and  inform  himself  whether  he  might  not 
have  some  acquaintance  at  Weymouth  or  Lyme,  or  some 

'  Mrs.  Lane  and  the  Colonel  escaped  to  France  in  October,  i6ci.  and 
Mrs.  Lane  stayed  for  some  time  in  Charles'  Court  at  Paris,  afterwards  enter- 
ing the  service  of  Mary  of  Orange,  and  going  to  Cola  in  1654.  While 
entirely  above  suspicion,  Charles'  affection  for  her  was  genuine,  and  it  was  a 
family  jes    often  repeated  by  the  Princess  of  Orange  to  call  Mr^.  Lane  the 

tWnll  ^^'^  ^'"'''  ^""^^  ^y  ^^  Ki"8  t°  J^ne,  of  which 

the  following  IS  an  example  :  "  The  last  of  June  [1652].      Mrs.  line,  I  did 

not  thinke  I  should  ever  have  to  begin  a  letter  to  you  in  chiding,  but  y^u  give 

^just  cause  by  telling  me  you  feare  you  are  wearing  oat  of  my  memo^! 

U^t  I  canno  chuse  but  tell  you  I  take  it  very  unkindly,  that  after  the  obUgT^ 

bons     have  to  you,  'tis  possible  for  you  to  suspect  I  can  ev.r  be  so  wanting  to 

my  selfe  as  not  to  remember  them  on  all  occasions  to  your  advantage     wWch 

assure  you  I  shall,  and  hope  before  it  be  long  I  shill  have  it  in'my  potr 

to  giue  you  those  testimonyes  of  my  kindnesse  tc  you  whi.:h  I  desire      llm 

very  sorry  to  hear  that  your  father  and  brother  are  in  prisan,  buf  hope  't^s 

cZ^rr^T      1  u   """'^   '^''y  ^°'   ^^'  'i^*^^  i^   ^th  ^  ndered   you   from 

commeing  along  with  my  sister,  that  I  might  have  assured  you  my  self  how 
ruly  I  am   your  most  aflfectionate  friend,  Charles  R."     -/or  Mrs   W'^ 
Charles  d.d  not  forget  his  "obligations";  the  whole  family  were  en^ched 
In      /  T'  ""S'"^"^^^'  ^^il-  "'^-"ous  litde  tokens  J  affection  k  the 

S^'iilTdt  "^'  ^'f  "'^-  ^^'^  1'°^^^^'  ^P°^  ''-■  Lane,^:^ide 
•*  g"i  01  ^  1000  and  an  annual  pension  of  the  same  sum       \fter  Mrc   t  »«^'e 


!    i 


V 


m 


86 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


of  those  parts.  But  Gyles  Strangways  proved  not  to 
have  any,  as  having  been  long  absent  from  all  those 
places,  as  not  daring  to  stir  abroad,  having  been  always 
faithful  to  the  King ;  but  he  desired  Frank  Windham  to 
try  what  he  could  do  therein,  it  being  unsafe  for  him  to  be 
found  busy  upon  the  sea  coast.  But  withal  he  sent  me 
three  hundred  broad  pieces,  which  he  knew  were  necessary 
for  me  in  the  conditions  I  was  now  in ;  for  I  durst  carry 
no  money  about  me  in  those  mean  clothes,  and  my  hair 
cut  short,  but  about  ten  or  twelve  shillings  in  silver." 
["The  Colonel  then  rode  over  to  Lyme  Regis  to  confer 
with  one  Captain  William  Ellesdon,  an  acquaintance  living 
in  that  town.  The  Captain  speaking  of  a  tenant  of  his, 
one  Stephen  Limboy,  of  Charmouth,  master  of  a  coasting 
vessel,  he  and  Colonel  Wyndham  went  there  together,  and 
settled  with  him  that  for  three-score  pounds  he  should 
carry  over  some  royalist  gentlemen  to  France,  and  have 
his  long  boat  in  readiness  at  Charmouth  on  the  night  of 
22  September.  Hitherto  all  things  succeeding  according 
to  their  expectation,  there  only  wanted  a  pretext  of  staying 
in  lodgings,  till  all  things  might  be  made  ready  for  their 
passage.  For  that  end,  Hugh  Peters,  Colonel  Wyndham's 
servant,  who  was  privy  to  the  design,  applies  himself  to 
Margaret  Wade,  hostess  of  the  *  Queen's  Arms  '  at  Char- 
mouth, and  told  her  he  was  servant  to  a  worthy  nobleman, 
in  love  with  a  maid  that  had  neither  father  nor  mother, 
who  lived  not  far  off,  and  was  as  deeply  in  love  with  him, 
but  that  her  guardian  opposing  the  marriage,  he  resolved 
to  steal  her  away  by  night  He  therefore  asks  her,  if  she 
would  for  some  hours  entertain  them  in  her  house  ;  and  at 
the  same  time  gives  her  a  small  gift  as  a  pledge  of  a 
greater  reward  ;  and  drinks  a  glass  of  wine  with  her.  The 
woman  promises  to  serve  them."]  "  And  accordingly  we 
set  out  from  Frank  Windham's,  and  to  cover  the  matter 
the  better,  I  rode  before  a  cousin  of  Frank  Windham's,  one 
Mrs.  Juliana  Coningsby,  still  going  by  the  name  of  William 
Jackson.    Memorandum,  that  one  day,  during  my  stay  at 


"KILL-KING  ALL  THE  PARISE    OVER"    87 

Trent,  I  hearing  the  bells  ring  (the  church  being  hard  by 
Frank  Windham's  house)  and  seeing  a  company  got 
together  in  the  churchyard,  I  sent  down  the  maid  of  the 
house,  who  knew  me,  to  enquire  what  the  matter  was  ; 
who  returning  came  up  and  told  me,  that  there  was  a  rogue 
a  trooper  come  out  of  Cromwell's  army  that  was  telling  the 
people  that  he  had  killed  me,  and  that  that  was  my  buff 
coat  which  he  had  then  on.  Upon  which,  most  of  the 
village  being  fanatics,  they  were  ringing  the  bells,  and 
making  a  bonfire  for  joy  of  it.  This  merchant  having 
appointed  us  to  come  to  Lyme,  we,  viz.,  myself,  my  Lord 
Wilmot,  Frank  Windham,  Mrs.  Coningsby,  and  one  servant 
of  Frank  Windham's,  whose  name  was  Pete:*,  were  directed 
from  him  to  a  little  village  hard  by  Lyme,  t  le  vessel  being 
to  come  out  of  the  cobb  at  Lyme,  and  ccme  to  a  little 
creek  that  was  just  by  this  village,  whithei  we  went,  and 
to  send  their  boat  ashore  to  take  us  in  at  the  said  creek, 
and  carry  us  over  to  France,  the  wind  being  then  very  good 
at  north."  ["  In  this  manner  travelling,  they  were  timely 
met  by  Captain  Ellesdon,  and  by  him  conducted  to  a  private 
house  of  his  brother's  among  the  hills  near  Charmouth, 
called  Elsdon's  Farm,  in  Monckton  Wyld.  There  his 
Majesty  was  pleased  to  discover  himself  to  the  Captain, 
and  to  give  him  a  piece  of  foreign  gold  in  which  in  his 
solitary  hours,  he  made  a  hole  to  put  a  ribbc  n  in.  So  they 
came  ^  to  a  blind  inn  in  Charmouth,  where  th  sy  found  many 
passengers,  and  so  were  to  be  contented  with  an  ordinary 
chamber,  which  they  did  not  intend  to  sleep  iDng  in.  But  as 
soon  as  there  appeared  any  light,  there  was  no  appearance 
of  the  bark."]  "  So  I  sent  Frank  Windham's  man,  Peters,  and 
my  Lord  Wilmot  to  Lyme  the  next  morning  to  know  the 
reason  of  it,"  ["  and  to  join  their  friends  at  a  Bridport  inn 
at  noon,  while  the  King,  Mrs.  Juliana,  and  Frmk  Windham, 
ride  to  that  town.  Wilmot  could  not  go,  because  his  horse 
had  cast  a  shoe  ;  but  Peters  got  no  explanation  from  the 

*  Probably   by  Over-compton,  Berwick,    Pilsdon,    I'en,   and  Lamberts 
Castle.    (Fea.) 


«t 


f 


•  1 

•  II 

i 


•  l3 


I 


88 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


astonished  Elden,  except  that  the  sailors  might  have  been 
drunk.     But  it  was  known  afterwards,  that  the  master  of 
the  vessel  being  come  home  about  ten  o'clock  that  night, 
to  take  clean  clothes  and  other  necessaries  for  his  voyage 
with  him,  was  locked  up  in  his  chamber,  and  bolted  in  by 
his  wife ;  for  that  very  day  a  proclamation  had  been  made 
m  the  town,  whereby  it  was  declared  death  for  any  person 
to  aid  or  conceal  the  King ;  and  a  thousand  pounds  pro- 
mised to  any  that  could  apprehend  him.    This  put  the 
woman  into  so  great  a  fear,  lest  her  husband  in  doing  that 
office,  which  he  had  confessed  to  his  wife  to  have  taken 
upon  him,  might  suffer  shipwreck  upon  shore  ;  she  there- 
fore used  entreaties,  tears,  and  almost  violence,  to  hinder 
him  from  it ;  and  at  length  screamed  out  thereby  to  alarm 
the  neighbourhoods.    Being  therefore  overcome  by  so  much 
importunity  he  kept  at  home,  and  commended  himself  to 
the  direction  of  his  wife.    Meanwhile  my  Lord  Wilmofs 
horse  was  being  shod,  and   the   prick-eared   blacksmith 
Hamnet,  viewing  the  remaining  shoes,  said :  '  This  horse 
hath  but  three  shoes  on,  and  they  were  set  in  three  several 
counties,  and  one  of  them  in  Worcestershire  ; '  which  speech 
of  his  fully  confirmed  the  ostler's  suspicion  that  one  of  the 
inn  s  guests  was  the  King ;  and  he  discovered  his  jealousies 
unto  his  mistress,  and  was  rebuked  for  his  pains  ;  accord- 
ingly he  went  when  Peters  was  with  EUesdon  at  Lyme  to 
tell  the  then  parson  of  Charmouth ;  who,  happening  to  be 
then  engaged  in  prayer  with  his  family,  spoke  not  with 
him,  which  has  reconciled  some  ever  since  to  extemporary 
prayer.     After  the  departure  of  his  major  towards  Bridport, 
the  ostler  went  a  second  time  to  the  parson,  and  fully  dis- 
covered his  thoughts,  and  told  him  what  the  smith  had 
said.    The  parson  thereupon  hastened  to  the  inn  and  saluted 
the  hostess  in  this  manner:   '  Why  how  now,  Margaret? 
You  are  a  maid  of  honour  now.'     'What  mean  you  by 
that  master  Parson  >'    Quoth  he  :  'Why  Charles  Stuart 
lay  last  night  at  your  house,  and  kissed  you  at  his  depar- 
ture ;   so  that  now  you  can't  but  be  a  maid  of  honour,' 


THE  "GEORGE"  AT   BRIDIORT  89 

The  woman  began  then  to  be  very  angry,  a  id  told  him  he 
was  a  scurvy-conditioned  man  to  go  about  to  bring  her 
and  her  house  into  trouble.     'But,'  said  she, 'if  I  thought 
It  was  the  King,  as  you  say  it  was,  I  would  think  the  better 
of  my  lips  all  the  days  of  my  life;  and  so,  Mr.  Parson  set 
you  out  of  my  house,  or  else  I'll  get  those  shall  kick 'you 
out'    Then  the  parson  and  the  smith  applied  to  Mr  John 
Butler,  the  nearest  Justice  of  the  Peace,  to  raise  the  county 
for  his   Majesty's  apprehension,  which  he  refused  to  do 
thinking  them  fools.    The   King  passing  upon  London 
Koad  from  Charmouth,  met  many  travellers,  among  whom 
was  one  of  his  father's  servants,  well  known  to  both  his 
Majesty  and  the  Colonel,  who  were  veiy  well  pleased  that 
he  was  not  guilty  of  so  much  civility  as  to  salute  them     As 
they  drew  near  to  Bridport,  the  Colonel  nding  a  little 
before,  perceived  it »]  "  full  of  red-coats.  Crom  ivell's  soldiers 
being  a  regiment  of  Colonel  Haynes,  viz.,  filteen  hundred 
men  going  to  embark  to  take  Jersey,   at  which   Frank 
Windham  was  very  much  startled,  and  asked  me  what  I 
would  do  >    I  tdd  him  that  we  must  go  impudently  into 
the  best  mn  in  the  town,  and  take  a  chamber  there,  as  the 
only  thing  to  be  done,  because  we  should  ot  lerways  miss 
my  Lord  Wilmot,  in  case  we  went  anywhere  else,  and  that 
would  be  very  inconvenient  both  to  him  and  me.     So  we 
rode  directly  into  [the  "  George  "]  the  best  inn  of  the  place 
and  found  the  yard  very  full  of  soldiers.     I  alighted,  and 
taking  the  horses  thought  it  the  best  way  to  go  blundering 
m  among  them,  and  lead  them  through  the  it  iddle  of  the 
soldiers  into  the  stable,  which  I  did  ;  and  th.y  were  ver^ 

tTf  T.  k',    t""'  ^  ""^  ™'^"°"^^-     ^  «^°  ^'  I  -^ame  into 
the  stable  I  took  the  bridle  off  the  horses,  ar.d  called  the 

AnT  'Tu    ^''P  ""'•  '"'^  *°  give  the  horses  some  oats 
-Jure   Si?'  u    T  l^'^P"^  ""^  *°  '''"  ^•'^  horses. 

was  not     T  ^°"'^^'  ''  '^"^'^  y°"'  ^*^«?'  which 

^s  no  very  pleasant  question  to  me.     BUt  I  thought  the 

had  always  lived  there  or  no.'    He  told  me.  that  he  was 


i 


90  CHARLES   II    AND   HIS   COURT 

but  newly  come  thither ;    that  he  was  born  in  Exeter,  and 
had  been  hostler  in  an  inn  there,  hard  by  one  Mr.  Potter's, 
a  merchant,  in  whose  house  I  had  lain,  in  the  time  of  war : 
so  I  thought  it  best  to  give  the  fellow  no  further  occasion 
of  thinking  where  he  had  seen  me,  for  fear  he  should  guess 
right  at  last ;  therefore  I  told  him,  *  Friend,  certainly  you 
have  seen  me  then  at  Mr.  Potter's,  for  I  served  him  a  good 
while,  above  a  year.'     *  Oh ! '  says  he,  '  then  I  remember 
you  a  boy  there ' ;  and  with  that  was  put  off  from  thinking 
any  more  on  it ;  but  desired  that  we  might  drink  a  pot  of 
beer  together ;  which  I  excused,  by  saying,  that  I  must 
go  wait  on  my  master,  and  get  his  dinner  ready  for  him. 
But  told  him,  that  my  master  was  going  for  London,  and 
would  return    about  three    weeks  hence,   when  he  would 
lie  there,  and  I  would  not  fail  to  drink  a  pot  with  him." 
["The  King  was  forced  to  stay  in  the  stable-yard  near 
half  an  hour  before  the  Colonel  could  procure  a  chamber, 
and  all  this  while  he  freely  discoursed  with  his  bloody 
enemies  and  learnt  from  them  their  intended  voyage  to 
Jersey  and  Guernsey.     The  mutton  being  ready,  the  King 
was  called  up,  who  made  haste  to  eat  (the  door  being  shut), 
and  so  went  again  to  fit  the  horses  whilst  they  did  eat. 
They  took  care,  the  house  being  full  of  soldiers,  to  be 
served  by  an  old  woman,  to  whom  they  gave  the  rest  of 
the  mutton,  who  took  out  the  pan  of  the  close-stool  to  hide 
it  under."]     "  As  soon  as  we  had  dined,  my  Lord  Wilmot 
came  in  to  the  town  from  Lyme,  but   went  to  another 
inn."    ["  Peters  riding  into  the  *  George '  yard,  was  observed 
by  Mrs.  Coningsby  from   the  window,  and  called   up."] 
"Upon  which,  we  rode  out  of  town,  as  if  we  had  gone 
upon  the  road  to  London  ;  and  when  we  were  got  two 
miles  off,  my   Lord    Wilmot    overtook  us,   (he    having 
observed,  while  in  town,  where  we  were)  and  told  us,  that 
he  believed  the  ship  might  be  ready  next  night ;  but  that 
there  had  been  some  mistake  betwixt  him  and  the  master 
of  the  ship.     Upon  which,  I  not  thinking  it  fit  to  go  back 
again  to  the  same  place  where  we  had  sat  up  the  night 


BROADWINDSOR  91 

before,  we  went  to  a  village  called  "  ["  Broad  Windsor.  For 
they  concluded  the  London  Road  very  unsafe,  and  so 
turned  aside  to  the  left  through  Netherbun^  towards  the 
said  village,  which  was  indeed  their  preservation,  seeing 
that  Captain  Macey  and  his  men,  in  pursuit  cf  his  Majesty, 
rode  in  to  the  *  George'  inn  at  Bridport,  but  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  after  his  Majesty  left  it,  and  finding  that  the  party 
they  looked  for,  gone  on  the  London  Road,  went  by  that 
way  to  Dorchester,  where  not  finding  whom  they  sought, 
they  returned  to  Pilsdon,  to  the  house  of  Sir  Hugh  Wind- 
ham, which  they  strictly  searched,  taking  a  fair  young 
gentlewoman  there  to  be  the  King  disguised  this  however 
not  proving  so,  they  left.  But  to  return  to  his  Majesty. 
Windham  goes  before,  to  enquire  in  whal  part  of  the 
country  they  were,  and  the  like;  and  by  ^ood  luck  he 
stumbled  upon  the  innkeeper  of  the  'George,'  one  Rice 
Jones,  an  old  servant  of  a  friend,  who  had  been  also  a 
soldier  in  the  King's  army.  Pleased  with  this  good  fortune, 
he  speaks  him  kindly,  and  easily  obtained  night's  lodging 
for  his  company.  While  the  horses  were  being  put  up, 
the  Colonel  desires  the  host  to  shew  him  his  most  private 
rooms;  the  reason  he  gave  was:  because  his  brother-in- 
law  Colonel  Bullen  Reymes,  (whom  the  l^ord  Wilmot 
personated  and  greatly  resembled)  had  been  overstepping 
the  limits  assigned  him  on  parole,  (the  royalijts  being  then 
confined  to  five  miles  distance  from  their  homes),  and 
might  therefore  be  troubled.  The  good  host  upon  this 
brought  them  up  into  the  highest  chambers,  vfhere  private- 
ness  recompensed  the  meanness  of  the  ace  Dmmodation  ; 
and  the  pleasantness  of  the  host  (a  merry  f<illow)  allayed 
and  mitigated  the  weariness  of  the  guests.  Soon  in  comes 
the  constable  with  almost  forty  soldiers  to  be  billeted  in 
the  inn ;  all  the  lower  rooms  were  thronged  up  with  this 
unexpected  company,  so  that  the  King  was  in  a  manner 
besieged,  there  being  no  passage  from  above,  save  through 
those  Guards.  Shortly  after  this,  a  woman  who  followed  the  \ 
soldiers  fell  in  labour  in  the  kitchen ;  and  the  inhabitants 


I 


« 


I 


I! 


I 


I 


I 


92 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


THE   INN  AT   MERE 


began  to  be  ill  at  ease,  fearing  lest  the  whole  Parish 
should  become  reputed  father  of  the  child.     To  avoid  the 
charge  of  keeping  the  brat,  the  chiefest  of  the  parish  post 
to  the  inn,  between  whom  and  the  soldiers  arose  a  very 
hot  conflict  concerning  provision  to  be  made  for  the  mother 
and  the  infant.     This  dispute  continued  till  such  time  as, 
according  to  orders,  they  were  to  march  to  the  sea-side, 
and  exercised  their  minds,  which  might  otherwise  have 
been  employed  in  examining  their  fellow-guests.    While 
his  Majesty  and  company  were  in  the  inn,  the  hostess 
came  to  welcome  Colonel  Reymes,  whom  she  said  she  very 
well  knew  at  Exeter,  when  she  lived  with  Mrs.  Coventry ; 
and  how  she  caressed  Lord  Wilmot  instead  of  him  you 
may  be  better  informed  by  his  Majesty  himself,  that  to  this 
day  hath  not  forgot  it.     His  Majesty  and  his  attendants 
rose   some  hours   before  day,   and  returned   to   Colonel 
Francis  Windham's  at  Trent     While   the  King  lay  at 
Trent,  he  used  Lady  Windham's  chamber,  that  had  a  secret 
place  near  it ;  and  his  Majesty's  meat  was  mostly  dressed 
in  his  own  room,  the  cookery  whereof  served  him  for  some 
divertisement  of  the  time.      Upon  the  Sunday  morning 
after  the  King  came,  a  tailor  of  the  parish  informed  the 
Colonel  that  the  zealots  of  the  place  intended  to  search 
his  house  for  persons  of  quality  hid  there.     The  Colonel 
told  him  that  his  kinsman  (meaning  my  Lord  Wilmot)  was 
not  private,  but  public,  in  his  house,  and  that  he  believed 
he  would   shew  himself  in   church  at   time   of  prayers; 
which  he  performed,  insomuch  that  the  zealots  said  that 
Cromwell's  late  successes  against  the  King  had  made  the 
Colonel  a  convert.     There  is  a  strange  story  of  a  Captain 
who  served  under  Cromwell  at  Worcester,  reported  to  two 
Divines  before   the   blessed  Restauration :   That  he  was 
followed  and  troubled  with  dreams  for  three  nights  to- 
gether, that  the  King  was  hid  at  Trent  near  Sherborne,  in 
a  house  nigh  which  stood  a  grove  or  patch  of  trees ;  but 
he  was  holden  that  he  should  not  go.     The  day  on  which 
his  Majesty  was  returned  to  Trent,  one  Mr.  Edward  Hyde 


93 


dined  with  the  company,  and  in  convershg  spoke  of 
Colonel  Robert  Phelips,  who  had  returned  to  Salisbury. 
The  King  therefore"]  "sent  away  presently  to  Colonel 
Robert  Phelips',  to  see  what  he  could  do  for  the  getting  me 
a  ship."  ["Lord  Wilmot  and  Hugh  Peters  went  to  Salis- 
bury, and  took  up  their  quarters  at  the  '  Bang's  Arms,' 
near  the  close,  a  noted  resort  of  the  King's  friends.  My 
Lord  Wilmot  then  spoke  with  Mr.  John  Coventry  and  with 
Dr.  Humphrey  Henchman,  both  living  in  the  Close,  and 
with  Colonel  Phelips  ;  and  Mr.  Coventry  ga^^e  him  some 
money,  and  then  left  my  Lord  to  talk  with  the  Colonel ; 
and  the  Colonel  undertook  the  service  of  the  King ;  and 
Mr.  Coventry  came  to  them  again,  and  they  d  'ank  a  bottle 
or  two.  Next  morning  the  Colonel  met  one  Mr.  Home,  a 
merchant,  who  told  him  of  one  who  would  carry  over  the 
King,  and  on  Sunday,  28  September,  about  three  in  the 
afternoon,  an  agreement  was  made  for  forty  pounds,  and 
the  boat  to  be  ready  by  Wednesday  night.  But  upon 
going  to  the  'Bear'  inn  without  Southampton  gates, 
Colonel  Phelips  was  told  by  Home  and  the  master,  that 
the  bark  was  pressed  to  carry  provisions  to  the  Parlia- 
ment's fleet.  My  Lord  and  Mr.  Coventry  anc  Dr.  Hench- 
man  judged  it  safer  for  his  Majesty  to  leave  Trent  and 
remove  to  Mrs.  Hyde's  at  Heale  House,  about  three  miles 
north-east  of  Salisbury.  The  message  to  this  effect  was 
sent  to  Trent,  and  one  sent  back  by  his  Mcjesty  in  like 
manner,  which  was  rolled  in  a  paper  bullet,  to  De  swallowed 
by  the  messenger  in  case  of  danger.  On  Sunday,  5  October, 
his  Majesty  left  Trent  after  a  sojourn  of  nineteen  days, 
with  Colonel  Phelips,  personating  a  tenant's  son  of  his, 
riding  before  Mrs.  Coningsby.  They  went  by  Sandford- 
Orcas,  North  Cheriton,  and  Charleton  Horjthorne,  and 
Wincanton  to  Mere,  and  dined  there  at  the  Mjeorge'  inn  ; 
the  host,  Mr.  Christopher  Philips,  whom  the  Colonel  knew 
to  be  perfectly  honest,  sat  at  the  table  with  his  Majesty, 
and  administered  matters  of  discourse,  telling  the  Colonel 
for  news,  that  he  heard  the  men  of  Westmins:er  were  in  a 


I 


ii    Ui 


\h 

i 


ij 


If 


94 


CHARLES   II   AND    HIS   COURT 


great  maze,  not  knowing  what  was  become  of  the  King : 
*  but/  says  he,  *  'tis  the  most  received  opinion  that  he  is 
come  in  a  disguise  to  London,  and  many  houses  have  been 
searched  for  him  there,'  at  which  his  Majesty  was  observed 
to  smile.     After  dinner  mine   host  familiarly  asked  the 
King,  *  if  he  were  a  friend  to  C:aesar,'  to  which  his  Majesty 
answered,   *Yes';    'then,'   said   he,    *  here's   a  health    to 
King  Charles,  in  a  glass  of  wine,'  which  the  King  and  the 
Colonel  both  pledged,  and  that  evening  arrived  safely  at 
Heale.     And  his  Majesty  since  his  happy  return  has  been 
pleased  to  ask  what  was  become  of  his  honest  host  at 
Mere.^    On  the  way  to  Salisbury,  in  his  journey  his  Majesty 
passed   through  the   midst  of  a  regiment  of  horse  and 
presently  after  met  Desborough  walking  down  a  hill  with 
three  or  four  men  with  him  who  had  lodged  in  Salisbury 
the  night  before,  all  that  road  being  full  of  soldiers."]     "  I 
came  into  the  house"  [at  Heale]  "just  as  it  was  almost  dark 
with  Robin  Philips  only,  not  intending  at  first  to  make  my- 
self known.    But  just  as  I  alighted  at  the  door  Mrs.  Hyde 
knew  me,  though  she  had  never  seen  me  but  once  in  her 
life,  and  that  was  with  the  King  my  father,  in  the  army,  when 
we  marched  by  Salisbury,  some  years  before,  in  the  time 
of  the  war  ;  but  she  being  a  discreet  woman  took  no  notice 
at  that  time  of  me,  I  passing  only  for  a  friend  of  Robin 
Philips,  by  whose  advice  I  went  thither."     ["  His  Majesty 
first  went  and  warmed  himself  by  the  kitchen  fire."]    "  At 
supper  there  was  with  us  Frederick  Hyde,  since  a  judge, 
and  his  sister-in-law  a  widow,  Robin  Philips,  myself,  and 
Dr.  Henchman,  since  Bishop  of  London,  whom  I  had  ap- 
pointed to  meet  me  there."    ["  Though  his  Majesty  was  set 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  table,  Mrs.  Hyde  had  much  ado  to 
overcome  herself,  and  not  carve  to  him  first ;  however,  she 

>  Colonel  Phelips  was  drinking  in  the  cellar  with  the  landlord,  when  the 
latter  said  to  the  King  :  "  Thou  lookest  like  an  honest  fellow ;  here's  a  health 
to  the  King."  Charles  hesitated  in  replying,  and  •*  made  the  man  expostulate 
with  the  colonel,  what  fellow  he  had  brought."  (Fea,  Flight  of  the  King, 
p.  158.)    Cf.  Highways  and  Byways  in  Dorset^  p.  18. 


THE   HYDES   OF   HEALE 


95 


could  not  refrain  from  drinking  to  him  in  a  |;lass  of  wine, 
and  giving  him  two  larks  when  others  had  but  one.  After 
supper  Mr.  Frederick  Hyde  discoursed  with  his  Majesty 
upon  various  subjects,  but  wondered  to  see  such  rational 
discourse  from  a  person  whose  habit  spoke  him  but  of 
mean  degree  ;  and  when  his  Majesty  was  bi ought  to  his 
chamber.  Dr.  Henchman  attended  him  and  had  a  long  and 
private  communication  with  him  there."]  "  While  we  were 
at  supper,  I  observed  Mrs.  Hyde  and  her  brotlier  Frederick 
to  look  a  little  earnestly  at  me,  which  led  me  to  believe 
they  might  know  me.  But  I  was  not  at  all  startled  at  it, 
it  having  been  my  purpose  to  let  her  know  who  I  was  ; 
and  accordingly  after  supper  Mrs.  Hyde  came  to  me, 
and  I  discovered  myself  to  her ;  who  told  me,  she  had 
a  very  safe  place  to  hide  me  in,  till  we  knew  whether 
our  ship  was  ready  or  no.  But  she  said  it  was  not  safe 
for  her  to  trust  any  body  but  herself  and  her  sister ;  and 
therefore  advised  me  to  take  my  horse  ne.xt  morning, 
and  make  as  if  I  quitted  the  house,  and  return  again 
about  night ;  for  she  would  order  it  so  thai:  all  her  ser- 
vants and  everybody  should  be  out  of  thi  house,  but 
herself  and  her  sister,  whose  name  I  remencber  not.  So 
Robin  Philips  and  I  took  our  horses,  and  "  ""  rode  about 
the  Downs,  and  took  a  view  of  the  wcnder  of  the 
country,  Stonehenge,  where  they  found  that  the  King's 
arithmetic  gave  the  lie  to  the  fabulous  ta  e  that  those 
stones  cannot  be  told  alike  twice  together,"]  *'  and  returned 
back  again  to  Heale  about  the  hour  she  appointed,  where 
I  went  up  into  the  hiding-hole,  that  was  veiy  convenient 
and  safe,  and  stayed  there  all  alone  (Robin  Philips  then 
going  away  to  Salisbury)  some  four  or  five  dayrs,"  ["  during 
which  time  the  widow  only  attended  with  necessaries  and 
brought  such  letters  as  the  Doctor  received  from  my  Lord 
V^ilmot  and  Colonel  Phelips.  Meanwhile  my  Lord  Wilmot 
had  visited  Colonel  Gunter.  Betwixt  eight  and  nine  of 
the  clock  on  the  night  of  7  October,  the  colonel  came 
home;  his  wife  met  him  and  told  him  there  was  in  the 


<. 


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96 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


il 


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1    I 


parlour  a  Devonshire  gentleman  sent  by  Mr.  Hyde,  about 
a  reference  which  none  but  yourself  can  decide.    At  the 
coloners  coming  in,  he  found  his  Devonshire  gentleman 
sitting  at  one  end  of  the  chimney,  Captain  Thomas  Gounter 
at  the  other,  and  his  lady  (which  was  gone  in  before)  in 
the  middle.     The  gentleman  rose  and  saluted  him.     The 
Colonel   presently   knew   him   to  be   the   Lord  Wilmot, 
which  the  noble  lord  perceiving  took  the  Colonel  aside  to 
the  window,  *  I  see  you  know  me,'  (said  he)  '  do  not  own 
me/     Captain   Thomas   Gounter,  the  colonel's   kinsman, 
for  all  he  had  a  long  time  been  in  the  army  and  under  his 
command,  knew  him   not,  which  was  strange,  my  lord 
being  but  meanly  disguised.     After  a  bottle  of  sack,  which 
afforded  some  matter  of  discourse,  by  reason  of  two  wasps 
or  rather  hornets  which  came  out  at  the  opening,  a  short 
collation  being  made  ready  as  soon  as  could  (his  lady 
having  given  leave  to  her  servants  to  be  from  home  that 
day),   my   lord's    man,   one    Swan,   coming   in    to   wait, 
whispered  his  master  in  the  ear,  and  told  him  my  Lord 
Wentworth's  boy  Lorrie  was  without ;  and  wished  him  to 
be  careful  for  fear  the  boy  should  know  him,  being  taken 
by  Captain  Thomas  Gounter  in  distress  at  Chelsea,  and 
clothed  by  him  to  wait  upon  him.     Supper  ended  there 
was  whispering  betwixt  the   colonel's  kinsman   and    his 
lady :  and  she  told  him  she  was  confident  of  a  disguise, 
and  that  it  was  the  master  by  his  hand.     He  beat  her  off 
it  as  much  as  he  could  suspecting  no  such  matter  himself. 
Within  half-an-hour  after  supper,  the  colonel  offered  the 
noble  lord,  then  by  name  Mr.  Barlowe,  it  being  late  and 
as  the  greatest  courtesy  he  would  shew  him,  to  wait  upon 
him  to  his  chamber,  and  to  bed,  which  he  readily  accepted. 
The  colonel  took  up  the  candle,  the  lord  following  him, 
his  lady  and  kinsman  attending.     When  he  came  into  the 
chamber,  it  being  late  the   colonel  desired  his  wife  and 
kinsman  to  go  to  bed  and  to  leave  him,  for  he  was  bound 
to  wait  upon  this  gentleman  awhile,  they  took  leave  and 
bid  him  good-night.     The  noble  lord  and  colonel  being 


THE  KING  LEAVES  HEALE  97 

alone,  he  broke  the  business  unto  the  colone"  with  these 
words  (sighing) :  '  The  King  of  England,  my  master,  your 
master,  and  the  master  of  all  good  Englishmen,  is  near 
you  and  in  great  distress ;  can  you  help  us  to  a  boat  ? ' 
The  colonel  looking  very  sadly,  after  some  pause  said  : 
'  Is  he  well  >  is  he  safe  ? '     He  said  '  Yes.'    The  Colonel 
replied  *  God  be  blessed  ; '  and  gave  him  a  reason  for  his 
question  if  he  should  not  be  secure,  he  doubted  not  but  he 
could  secure  him  till  a  boat  could  be  gotten.     At  length 
the  Colonel  promised  to  try  for  a  boat,  and  leit  my  Lord  ; 
coming  to  his  wife,  he  found  her  staying  up  ;br  him,  and 
very  earnest  to  know  of  this  business,  which,  after  leave 
obtained  from  my  Lord,  the  Colonel  told  her,  and  next 
morning,    Wednesday,   8    October,    rode    to    Emsworth, 
passing  through  Westbourne.     Finally,  by  his  means,  a 
vessel  was   hired   at  Brighthelmstone  in   Sus>ex,  by  the 
assistance  of  Mr.  Francis  Mansel,  a  merchant  ol  Chichester, 
and  the  concurrent  endeavours  of  Captain  Thomas  Gounter. 
And  on  Saturday  night,  the  1 1  October,  he  Drought  the 
tidings  to  my  Lord  Wilmot  and  Colonel  Phelips  ;   and 
on    Sunday   Dr.     Henchman   went    to    Heale   with    the 
news,  and  instructions  to  prepare  the  King  to  be  ready 
at  the   meadow  gate   opening   into  the   rivei,  when   the 
Colonel  would  be  there  by  three  of  the  clock  i:i  the  morn- 
ing with   a   led   horse   for  the   King.     Accordingly  the 
Colonel  came  to  the  place  appointed,  but  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  have  the  Kings  horse,  at  the  entering  of  the 
meadow-gate,  to  break  his  bridle  and  run  up  the  river,  which 
after  some  short  time  with  no  small  trouble  h(j  recovered 
and  brought  back,  and  having  in  zbme  tolerable  manner 
amended  that  had  been  broke,  the  King  and  the  Colonel 
set  forward  for  Brighthempson  ;  to  meet  the  Colonel  at 
Clarendon  Park  Corner,  his  Majesty  went  out  c  f  the  house 
of  Heale  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  by  the  back-way 
and  went  on  foot  with  Dr.  Henchman  for  two  miles.    At 
the    appointed    time    and   place,    the  colonel  brought   a 
brace  of  greyhounds  and  beat  with  my  Lord  Wilmot  and 


\  ^^ 


:    ] 


1 


t  s 


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98  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

his  cousin  till  the  time  served,  and  then  left  them,  resolving 
to  ride  on  till  he  met  the  King,  and  just  as  he  came  to 
Warnford  town  end  from  Old  Winchester,  he  met  Colonel 
Phelips  and  the  King.     Being  near  the  houses,  the  Colonel 
rid  by  them  and  took  no  notice,  went  to  an  inn  in  the 
town,  called  for  some  beer  and  took  a  pipe,  and  stayed  so 
long  that  they  were  atop  Old  Winchester  before  he  over- 
took them.    When  he  had  overtaken  them  and  done  his 
duty  to  his  Majesty,  he  directed  them  the  safest  way,  and 
he  would  ride  before  to  find  out  my  Lord  Wilmot,  which 
being  done,  they  all  came  together.     The  King  and  my 
Lord  had  some  private  discourse  together  ;  and  when  they 
came  to  Broadhalfpenny,  a  little  above  Hambledon,  the 
King  spake  to  the  Colonel.    *  Canst  thou  get  me  a  lodgmg 
hereabouts?'      The    Colonel   told   him   that    his    cousin 
Hyde's  house  was  taken  up  for  him,  and  very  convenient, 
being  near  and  in  the  way  ;    but  whether  his   Majesty 
thought  it  too  public  a  place,  or  for  some  other  reason,  he 
said  :  *  Know  you  no  other  't '    '  Yes,  may  it  please  your 
Majesty.     I  know  divers  yeomanry/  saith  Colonel  Counter, 
•  where  for  a  night  we  may  be  welcome,  there  is  one  who 
married    my   sister,   whose  house  stands  privately   and 
out  of  the  way.'     *  Let  us  go  thither,*   saith  the  King. 
The  colonel  then  led  them  all  a  private  way,  the  backside 
of  Hambledon,  to  the  house,  being  but  half  a  mile  off. 
Alighting  at  the  door,  the   Colonel  led   them   in,  Lord 
Wilmot  following,  the  King  putting  Colonel  Philips  before 
him,  saying,  'Thou  lookest  the  most  like  a  gentleman 
now.'      Coming  in,  the  Colonel's  sister  met  him  ;  they  all 
saluted  her.     She  brought  them  into  a  little  parlour  where 
was  a  good  fire.     This  was  about  candle-lighting.     Wine, 
ale,  and  biscuits  were  presently   set  before  them   with 
a  very  cheerful  countenance,  and  in  an  hour's  space  they 
went  to  supper,  being  all  set  promiscuously  at  a  round 
table  ;  and  having  half  supped,  in   comes  the  colonel's 
sister's  husband,  Mr.  Thomas  Symones,  who,  as  it  plainly 
appeared,  had  been   in    company  that   day.      'This  is 


ROUNDHEAD   CHARLES  99 

brave,'  said  he  ;  '  a  man  can  no  sooner  be  ou :  of  the  way 
but  his  house  must  be  taken  up  with  I  knov^  not  whom.* 
And  looking  in  the  Colonel's  face,  *Is  it  you?'  said  he, 
^you  are  welcome,  and,  as  your  friends,  so  they  are  all.' 
Passing  round   the   table  and  viewing   all   the  company, 
he  said :  *  These  are  all  Hydes  now,'  but  pe(jping  in  the 
King's  face,  and  observing  how  little  hair  William  Penderel's 
scissors  had  left  him,  said  of  him  ;  *  Here  is  a  Roundhead,' 
and  addressing  his  speech  to  the  Colonel,  said,  *  I  never 
knew  you  keep  Roundheads'  company  before.'     To  which 
the  Colonel  replied  ;  '  It  is  no  matter ;  he  is  my  friend, 
and   I  will  assure  you  no   dangerous   man.'      At   which 
words  he  clapt  himself  down  in  a  chair  next  tlie  King  and 
took  him  by  the  hand,  shaking  him  and  sayiig,  ' Brother 
Roundhead,  for  his  sake  thou  art  welcome.'  all  the  while 
making  himself  one  as  well  as  he  could  act  it,  the  King 
all   the   while  complying  with   him.     Now  and  then  he 
would  swear   before   he  was  aware,  for  whicli   the   King 
reproved  him,  saying,  '  Oh,  dear  brother,  that  is  a  scape ; 
swear  not,  I  beseech  you.'     Nevertheless,  in  that  humour 
he  was,  he  plied  them  hard  with  strong  waters  and  beer, 
the  King  not  knowing  well  how  to  avoid  it,  b  it  by  some- 
body or  other,  when  he  looked  aside,  would  take  it  out  of  his 
hand.     The  King  was  here  observed  to  be  clad  in  a  short 
juppa  of  a  sad-coloured  cloth  and  his  breecheu  of  another 
species,  with  a  black  hat,  and  without  cuffs,  somewhat  like 
the   meaner   sort   of  country  gentlemen.     Supper   being 
ended,  it  being  ten  of  the  clock,  the  Colonel  begai  to  bethink 
hifiiself  that  the  King  had  rid  near  forty  miles  that  day 
and  was  to  undergo  a  very  hard  journey  the  next,  and  how 
to  get  the  King  out  of  his  company  and  to  his  bed  he 
could  hardly  devise;  yet  he  whispered  his  kinsman  in  the 
ear,  saying:    *I   wonder    how  thou    shouldst    judge    so 
right;   he  is  a  Roundhead  indeed,  and  if  w(i  could  get 
him  to  bed    the  house  were  our  own,  and  we  could   be 
merry/     He  readily  submitted,  and  the  colonel  presently, 
leaving  Lord  Wilmot  behind,  led  the  King  and  Colonel 


*    \\ 


t 


i 


lOO  CHARLES  II  AND  HIS  COURT 
Robert  Philips  (who  lay  in  the  King's  chamber)  to  bed."] 
^liut  that  time  my  .Lord  Southampton,  that  was 
the^at  Titchfield,  suspecting,  for  what  reason  I  don  t 
Inow'tha  it  was  possible  I  might  be  in  the  count^^,  sent 
^Zr  to  Robin  PWlips,  or  to  Dr.  Henchman,  to  offer  h.s 
!  tees  The  could  serve  me  in  my  escape.  But  bemg 
services,  u  n  ^  ^  ^im  to  the  danger 

TZZX  tiing  to'ko  ^hh  it."    f  The  King  slept  well 
a  S  ani  by  break  of  day,  the  Colonel  putting  up  two 
neaS-  tongues  in  his  pockets,  which  he  thought  they  m.ght 
A  wthe  wav   they  set  out  and  began  their  journey. 
BufhaCthen 'no  further  use  for  Colonel  Phelips,  his 
Majesty  d^tnissed  him  with  thanks  for  h^  MeUty  and 
feSn  this  most  secret  and  important  affair  and  then 
having  a"so  bidden  farewell  to  Mr.  Symons  and  h.s  w.fe, 
toTLse.  attended  by  my  Lo^<i  ^il-t  and  h.s  man 
Colonel  and  Captain  Thomas  Gunter.     When  they  came 
near  the  Lord  Lumley's  house  at  Stanstead,  .n  Sussex,  .t 
wi  Ih^ught  that  the  greatness  of  the  numbe.  of  horse 
might  possibly  raise  some  suspicion  of  them,  /-apta^n 
^homa^Gounter  was  therefore  dismissed  with  thanks  for  the 
ler^Se  he  had  done,  and  his  Majesty  held  on  h.s  journey 
wThout  any  stay.    They  were  no  sooner  come  to  Arundel 
H  11  a    they  rode  close  by  the  castle,  but  the  governor 
SptaTn  Morley,  met  them  full  butt,  hunting.     The  Colonel 
the  betteV  to  avdd  them,  it  being  a  steep  hill  they  were  to 
go  down,  presently  alighted,  and  his  company,  (as  was 
Igreed  before)  did  as  he  did.  and  so  happily  e-aped    he- 
The  King  being  told  who  it  was.  replied  merrily.    I  did  not 
Tuch  like  his  starched   mouchates.'     So  they  came  to 
Houghton,  where  on  horseback  they  stopped  at  an  alehouse 
for  some  bread  and  drink ;  and  there  our  neats -tongues 
stood  them  in  very  good  stead  and  were  heart'ly  ea^n^ 
From  thence  being  come  to  Bramber.  we  fo"°<i*e  streets 
fuU  of  soldiers  on  both  sides  of  the  houses,  who  unluck.ly  and 

.  Mr.  Henslow  of  Burchant,  or  Burhunt.  told  the  Earl  that  the  King  was 
in  hiding.    (F«a.) 


SOLDIERS 


lOI 


unknown  to  the  Colonel,  were  come  thither  the  night  before 
to  guard  ;  but  by  a  special  Providence  were  ju:8t  then  come 
from  their  guard  at  Bramber  Bridge  into  the  town  for 
refreshment.  We  came  upon  them  unawan:s.  and  were 
seen  before  they  suspected  anything.  My  Lord  Wilmot 
was  ready  to  turn  back  when  I  stepped  in  and  said.  '  If  we 
do  we  are  undone.  Let  us  go  on  boldly  and  wu  shall  not  be 
suspected.'  '  He  saith  well.'  said  the  King.  The  Colonel 
went  before,  the  King  followed,  and  so  passed  through 
without  any  hindrance.  It  was  then  between  three  and 
four  of  the  clock  in  the  afternoon ;  they  went  on,  but  had 
not  gone  far,  when  a  new  terror  pursued  them ;  the  same 
soldiers  riding  after  them  as  fast  as  they  could  ;  whereupwn 
the  King  gave  the  Colonel  a  '  hem.'  He  slaclced  his  pace 
till  they  were  come  up  to  him.  and  by  that  time  the  soldiers 
were  come,  who  rudely  passed  by  them,  (beinjj  in  a  narrow 
lane)  so  that  they  hardly  keep  their  saddles  ibr  them,  but 
passed  by  without  any  further  hurt,  being  thirty  or  forty 
in  number.  When  they  were  come  to  Bee^iling,  a  little 
village  where  the  Colonel  had  provided  a  treat  ment  for  the 
King  (one  Mr.  Bagshall's  house),  he  was  earnest  that  his 
Majesty  should  stay  there  awhile  till  he  had  viewed  the 
coast ;  but  my  Lord  Wilmot  would  by  no  mesns,  for  fear  of 
those  soldiers,  but  carried  the  King  out  of  the  road  the 
Colonel  knew  not  whither,  so  they  parted ;  they  where  they 
thought  safest,  the  Colonel  to  Brightemston.  l>eing  agreed 
they  should  send  to  him  when  fixed  any  where  and  ready. 
Being  come  to  the  said  Brightemston,  the  Colonel  found 
all  clear  there  and  the  '  George '  inn  free  from  strangers 
at  that  time.  Having  taken  the  best  room  in  the  house 
and  bespoke  his  supper,  as  he  was  entertaining  himself 
with  a  glass  of  wine,  the  King  not  finding  accommodation 
elsewhere  to  his  mind,  was  come  to  the  inn  ;  and  up  comes 
the  host  Smith ;  '  More  guests,'  saith  he  to  the  Colonel. 
He  brought  them  up  into  another  room ;  and  it  was  not 
long  but  drawing  towards  the  King's  room,  the  Colonel 
heard  the  King's  voice  saying  aloud  to  my  I.,ord  Wilmot, 


4 

i 


>."i«i' 


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( 


i 


n 


i! 


I02  CHARLES   II   AND    HIS   COURT 

*  Here,  Mr.  Barlow,  I  drink  to  you/    *  I  know  that  name/ 
said  the  Colonel  to  the  host  standing  by  him.     *  I  pray 
enquire  whether  he  was  not  a  major  in  the  King's  army/ 
Which  done,  he  was  found  to  be  the  man  whom  the  Colonel 
expected,  and  presently  invited  (as  was  likely)  to  the 
fellowship  of  a  glass  of  wine.     From  that  the  Colonel  pro- 
ceeded,  and  made  a  motion  to  join  company,  and  because 
his  chamber  was  largest,  that  they  would  make  use  of  it, 
which  was  accepted,  and  so  they  became  one   company 
again."]     "  When  we  came  to  the  inn,  we  met  with  one 
Mansel  the  merchant  who  had  hired  the  vessel,  in  company 
with  her  master.  Captain  Tettershall,  the  merchant  only 
knowing  me,  as  having  hired  her  to  carry  over  a  person  of 
quality   escaped  from   the  battle  of  Worcester,  without 
naming  any  body."    ["  At  supper,  Mr.  Mansel  sat  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  table,  and  Mr.  Jackson  (for  that  name  his 
Majesty  still  retained)  at  the  lower  end.    At  supper  the 
King  was  cheerful,  not  shewing  the  least  sign  of  fear  or 
apprehension  of  danger,  either  then  or  at  any  time  during 
the  whole  course  of  this  business."]    "  And  as  we  were  all 
here,  I  observed  the  master  of  the  vessel  looked  very  much 
upon  me.     And  as  soon  as  we  had  supped,  calling  the 
merchant  aside,  the  master  told  him  that  he  had  not  dealt 
fairly  with  him  ;  for  though  he  had  given  him  a  good  price 
for  the  carrying  over  that  gentleman,  yet  he  had  not  been 
clear  with  him  ;  *  for,*  says  he,  *  he  is  the  King,  and  I  very 
well  know  him  to  be  so.'     Upon  which,  the  merchant  deny- 
ing it,  saying  that  he  was  mistaken,  the  master  answered  : 
*  I  know  him  very  well ;   for  he  took  my  ship,  together 
with  other  fishing  vessels  at  Brighthelmstone,  in  the  year 
1648'  (which  was  when  I  commanded  the  King  my  father's 
fleet,  and  I  very  kindly  let  them  go  again.)     *  But,'  says  he 
to  the  merchant, '  be  not  troubled  at  it ;  for  I  think  I  do 
God  and  my  country  good  service,  in  preserving  the  King, 
and  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  will  venture  my  life  and  all  for 
him,  and  set  him  safely  on   shore,  if  I  can,  in   France.' 
Upon  which  the  merchant  came  and  told  me  what  had 


MINE   HOST  GAIUS 


103 


\, 


passed  between  them  ;  and  thereby  found  myself  under  a 
necessity  of  trusting  him.     But  I  took  no  kind  of  notice  of 
it  presently  to  him  ;  but,  thinking  it  not  convenient  to  let 
him  go  home,  lest  he  should  be  asking  advice  of  his  wife, 
or  anybody  else,  we  kept  him  with  us  in  the  inn,  and  sat 
up  all  night  drinking  beer,  and  taking  tobacco  with  him.^ 
And  here  I  also  run  another  very  great  dan^rer,  as  being 
confident  I  was  known  by  the  master  of  the  i  nn,^  for  as   I 
was  standing,  after  supper,  by  the  fire-side,  lear  ing  my  hand 
upon  a  chair,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  company  being  gone 
into  another  room,  the  master  of  the  inn  came  in,  and  fell 
a  talking  with  me,  and  just  as  he  was  lookirg  about,  and 
saw  there  was  nobody  in  the  room,  he,  upon  a  sudden, 
kissed  my  hand  that  was  upon  the  back  of  the  chair,  and 
said  to  me :  *  God  bless  you  wheresoever  you  go  ;  I  do  not 
doubt,  before  I  die,  to  be  a  lord,  and  my  wife  a  lady ' ;  so  I 
laughed,  and  went  away  into  the  next  room,  not  desiring 
then  any  further  discourse  with  him,  there  being  no  remedy 
against  my  being  known  by  him,  and  more  dir.course  might 
but  have    raised    suspicion.     On   which   cor  sideration,   I 
thought  it  best  for  to  trust  him  in  that  manner,  and  he  proved 
very  honest."    ["  About  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after,  the  King 
went  to  his  chamber,  where  the  colonel  follows  d  him,  craved 
his  pardon,  saying  that  he  was  ignorant  of  ttie  cause  how 
this  had  happened.     *  Peace,  peace,  colonel,'  said  the  King, 
*  the  fellow  knows  me  and  I  him,  he  was  one  :hat  belonged 
to  the  backstairs  to  my  father.     I  hope  he  is  an  honest 
fellow.'      After  this  the  Colonel  began  to  treat  with  the 
boatman,   asking  him   in   what    readiness    lie  was.      He 
answered  that  he  could  not  be  off  that  night,  because  for 
more  security  he  had  brought  his  vessel  into  creek,  and 
the  tide  had  forsaken  it,  so  that  it  was  on  |,rround.     It  is 
observable  that  all  the  while  the  business  had  been  in 

*  The  King  preferred  snufF. 

'  "Who  called  himself  Gaius,  runs  to  the  King,  catch  eth  his  hand,  and 
kissing  it,  said,  *  It  shall  not  be  said  but  I  have  kissed  th<  best  man's  hand 
in  England.* "    (Col.  Counter's  narrative.) 


A 


\ 


\l 


f 


1  , 

I    , 


r  r 


104  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

agitation  to  this  very  time,  the  wind  had  been  contrary. 
The  King  then  opening  the  window,  took  notice  that  the 
wind  was  turned,  and  told  the  master  of  the  ship  ;  where- 
upon, because  of  the  wind  and  a  clear  night  the  Colonel 
offered  ten  pounds  more  to  the  man  to  get  off  that  night ; 
but  that  could  not  be ;  however  he  agreed  to  take  in  his 
company  that  night.    When  they  thought  they  had  agreed, 
the  boatman  starts  back  and  saith  no,  except  the  Colonel 
would  insure  bark.      Argue  it  they  did  with   him   how 
unreasonable    it   was,   being   well   paid,   etc.,   but   to   no 
purpose,  so  that  they  at  last  yielded  to  his  valuation  of  two 
hundred  pounds.    But  then  as  though  he  had  been  resolved 
to  frustrate  all  by  unreasonable  demands,  he  required  the 
Colonel's  bond;    at  which   that   officer  began  to  be   as 
resolute  as  he ;  saying  there  were  more  boats  to  be  had 
besides  his  ;  and  if  he  would  not  act,  another  should.     In 
this  contest  the  King  happily  interposed  :  '  he  saith  right, 
a  gentleman's  word,  especially  before  witnesses,  is  as  good 
as  his  bond/     At  last  the  man's  stomach  came  down  and 
carry  them  he  would,  whatsoever  came  of  it ;  and  before 
he  would  be  taken,  he  would  run   his   boat   under  the 
water ;  so  it  was  agreed  that  about  two  in  the  night  they 
should  be  aboard.     The  boatman  in  the  mean  time  went 
to  provide  necessaries ;  the  vessel  lay  at  Shoreham,  four 
miles  thence,  as  yet  half  laden  with  coals,  which  he  had 
not  sold,  most  of  the  seamen  being  at  Brighthelmstone. 
Those  he  knocks  up  in  the  night  time,  bidding  them  make 
haste  to  the  vessel,  which  having  slipt  its  anchors  was 
adrift,  and  that  he  would  himself  follow  after.     In  the 
mean'  time  he  orders  his  wife  to  go  and  buy  a  bottle  of 
brandy,  and  another  of  sack,  and  to  give  him  clean  clothes 
to  take  along  with  him.     '  But  why  so  late  in  the  night  ? ' 
says  she :  '  would  it  not  do  as  well  in  the  morning  ? '     He 
still  urging  her,  and  cutting  off  all  delays ;  'It's  the  King,' 
said  the  woman,  '  whom  I  suspect  you  are  to  carry  over. 
Pray  God  you  may  carry  him  safe,  though  I  and  my  small 
children  should  for  ever  after  go  a-begging.'    Meanwhile 


ON   BOARD 


105 


Colonel  Counter  persuaded  the  King  to  take;  some  rest  in 
his  clothes,  and  my  Lord  Wilmot  with  him,  ti  11  towards  two 
of  the  night.  Then  he  called  them  up,  shev  ing  them  how 
the  time  went,  by  his  watch.  Horses  being  lid  by  the  back 
way  towards  the  beach,  they  came  to  the  boat  and  found  all 
ready  ;  so  the  Colonel  took  his  leave,  craving  his  Majesty's 
pardon  if  anything  had  happened  through  error,  not 
want  of  will  or  loyalty ;  how  willingly  he  would  have 
waited  further  but  for  his  family,  being  many,  which 
would  want  him,  and  he  hoped  his  Majesty  would  not. 
His  only  request  to  the  King  was,  that  he  would  conceal 
his  instruments,  wherein  their  preservation  was  so  much 
concerned.  His  Majesty  promised  nobod>  should  know. 
The  Colonel  abided  there,  keeping  the  horses  in  readiness 
in  case  anything  unexpected  had  happened.  The  master 
of  the  ship  went  to  Shoreham  on  horse-back,  behind  one 
of  the  King's  company."]  "  It  being  low  water,  and  the 
vessel,  not  above  sixty  ton,  lying  dry,  I  and  my  Lord 
Wilmot  got  up  with  a  ladder  into  her,  and  went  and  lay 
down  in  the  little  cabin,  till  the  tide  came  to  fetch  us  off. 
But  I  was  no  sooner  got  into  the  ship,  and  1  ain  down  upon 
the  bed,  but  the  master  came  in  to  me,  fell  down  upon  his 
knees,  and  kissed  my  hand ;  telling  me,  that  he  knew  me 
very  well,  and  would  venture  life,  and  all  that  he  had  in 
the  world,  to  set  me  down  safe  in  France.  So  about  seven 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  it  being  high-water,  we  went  out 
of  the  port ;  but  the  master  being  bound  for  Poole,  laden 
with  sea-coal,  because  he  would  not  have  it  seen  from 
Shoreham  that  he  did  not  go  his  intended  voyage,  but 
stood  all  the  day,  with  a  very  easy  sail,  tc« wards  the  Isle 
of  Wight.  And  as  we  were  sailing,  the  nr. aster  came  to 
me,  and  desired  me  that  I  would  persuade  iiis  men  to  use 
their  endeavours  with  me  to  get  him  to  set  us  on  shore  in 
France,  the  better  to  cover  him  from  suspicion.  Upon 
which,  I  went  to  the  men,  which  were  four  and  a  boy,  and 
told  them,  truly,  that  we  were  two  merchants  that  had 
some  misfortunes,  and  were  a  little  in  debt  ;  that  we  had 


h 


io6 


CHARLES    II   AND   HIS   COURT 


ill 


some  money  owing  us  at  Rouen   in   France,   and   were 
afraid  of  being  arrested  in  England ;  that  if  they  would 
persuade  the  master  (the  wind  being  very  fair)  to  give  us 
a  trip  over  to  Dieppe,  or  one  of  those  ports  near  Rouen, 
they  would  oblige  us  very  much,  and  with  that  I  gave 
them  twenty  shillings  to  drink.     Upon  which,  they  under- 
took to  second  me,  if  I  would  propose  it  to  the  master. 
So  I  went  to  the  master,  and  told  him  our  condition,  and 
that  if  he  would  give  us  a  trip  over  to  France,  we  would 
give  him   some  consideration   for  it.     Upon   which    he 
counterfeited  difficulty,  saying,  that  it  would  hinder  his 
voyage.     But  his  men,  as  they  had  promised  me,  joining 
their  persuasions  to  ours,  at  last  he  yielded  to  set  us  over. 
So  about  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  as  we  were  in  sight 
of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  we  stood  directly  over  to  the  coast 
of  France,  the  wind  being  then  full  north ;  and  the  next 
morning,  a  little  before  day,  we  saw  the  coast.     But  the 
tide  failing  us,  and  the  wind  coming  about  to  the  south- 
west, we  were  forced  to  come  to  an  anchor,  within  two 
miles  of  the  shore,  till  the  tide  of  flood  was  done.     We 
found  ourselves  just  before  an  harbour  in  France,  called 
Fescamp ;  and  just  as  the  tide  of  ebb  was  made,  espied  a 
vessel  to  leeward  of  us,  which,  by  her  nimble  working,  I 
suspected  to  be  an  Ostend  privateer.    Upon  which,  I  went 
to  my  Lord  Wilmot,  and  telling  him  my  opinion  of  that 
ship,  proposed  to  him  our  going  ashore  in  the  little  cock- 
boat, for  fear  they  should  prove  so,  as  not  knowing,  but 
finding  us  going  into  a  port  of  France  (there  being  then  a 
war  betwixt  France  and  Spain)  they  might  plunder  us, 
and  possibly  carry  us  away  and  set  us  ashore  in  England ; 
the  master  also  himself  had  the  same  opinion  of  her  being 
an  Ostender,  and  came  to  me  to  tell  me  so,  which  thought 
I  made  it  my  business  to  dissuade  him  from,  for  fear  it 
should  tempt  him  to  set  sail  again  with  us  for  the  coast  of 
England  ;  yet  so  sensible  I  was  of  it,  that  I  and  my  Lord 
Wilmot  went  both  on  shore  in  the  cock-boat ;  ^  and  going 
*  Tattersall's  mate  canied  the  King  oti  his  shoulders  from  the  cock-boat  to 


'^)"Tn™f'^ff^T-<HifW  '  fWr^'i'^f'^W  y  »>"JT't"">'  /wrew 


ARRIVAL   IN   ROUEN 


107 


up  into  the  town  of  Fecamp,  stayed   there   all   day  to 
provide   horses   for   Rouen.     But  the  vessiil  which   had 
so  affrighted  us,  proved  afterwards  only  a  French  Hoy. 
One    particular    more    there    is    observable     in    relation 
to   this   our  passage   into  France;    that  the  vessel  that 
brought  us  over,  had  no  sooner  landed  me^  and  I  given 
her  master  a  pass,  for  fear  of  meeting  witi  any  of  our 
Jersey  frigates,  but  the  wind  turned  so  hajjpily  for  her, 
as   to   carry  her    directly   for    Poole,   without  its  being 
known  that  she  had  ever  been  upon  the  coas':  of  France."  ^ 
[''  During  the  passage,  the  master  wondered  that  his  Majesty 
understood  their  course  better  than  he  did.     Nor  is  it  to 
be  omitted,  what  an  ignorant  seaman  wittily  blurted  out 
by  chance.     The  King  whilst  the  vessel  wc.s  under  sail, 
sitting  with  the  master  in  the  cabin,  the  fcillow  coming 
in  claps    down   by   them   and   blows    the   ;;moke  of  his 
tobacco  in  his  face ;  at  which  the  master  being  vexed,  bid 
him  begone  quickly,  and  not  trouble  the  gentleman  with 
his  smoke.     The  fellow  rising  to  go  out  in  d  adgeon  made 
answer:   *A  cat  might  look  a  King,'  a  common  proverb 
in  England."]     "  The  next  day  we  got  to  Rouen,  to  an  inn, 
one  of  the  best  in  the  town,  in  the  Fishmarket,  where  they 
made  difficulty  to  receive  us,  taking  us  by  cur  clothes  to 
be  some  thieves  or  persons  that  had  been  doing  some  very 
ill  thing,  insomuch  that  before  we  went  away  the  people 
went  into  the  rooms  to  see  whether  we  had  not  stolen 
something  or  other :  but  Mr.  Sandburne,  a  :iierchant,  for 
whom  I  sent,  came  and  answered  for  us."     ["  Mr.  Sandburn 
and  Mr.  Parker  his  partner  provided  his  Majesty  with  new 
clothes,  dividing  his  old  ones   betwixt  themselves,  to  be 
kept  as   holy  relics.      Good   Dr.    Earle,  then   at   Rouen, 

the  shore,  and  at  the  Restoration  Charles  pardoned  six  out  of  a  nmnber  of 
Quakers  for  whom  this  man  pleaded. 

*  "They  were  no  sooner  landed,  but  the  wind  turned  and  a  violent  storm 
arose,  insomuch  that  the  boatman  was  forced  to  cut  his  cable,  and  lost  his 
anchor  to  save  his  boat,  for  he  required  of  me  ;^8,  and  hi  d  it.  I  was  not 
gone  out  of  the  town  two  hours,  but  soldiers  came  thither  tc  search  for  a  tall 
black  man,  6  ft.  2ius.  high."    (Col.  Counter's  Narrative.) 


ii 


1 


'I 


j   I 


!^n( 


io8  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

heard  of  his  Majesty's  arrival,  and  visited  his  lodgings, 
where  he  saw  the  King  but  at  first  took  him  to  be  a 
servant  of  the  inn."]  "  We  stayed  at  Rouen  one  day,i  to 
provide  ourselves  better  clothes,  and  give  notice  to  the 
Queen,  my  mother  (who  was  then  at  Paris)  of  my  being 
safely  landed.  After  which,  setting  out  in  a  hired  coach 
I  was  met  by  my  mother  with  coaches,  short  of  Paris  ; 
and  by  her  conducted  thither,  where  I  safely  arrived."  ^ 

»  His  Majesty  soon  changed  his  quarters  to  Mr.  Scott's,  and  finally  left 
Rouen  on  29  October.  On  the  way  they  slept  the  night  at  Fleurie,  and  were 
met  by  Henrietta  Maria  at  Morieaux.   They  came  to  the  Louvre  on  Thursday, 

20  October.     (Fea.) 

«  "  Perhaps  the  Reader  may  think  it  tedious  that  I  have  given  so  large  a 
relation  of  his  Majesty's  escape  from  that  fight  at  Worcester  ;  but  it  was  a 
work  so  full  of  wonder  and  providence,  and  so  many  false  relations  there  are 
abroad,  that  I  could  do  no  less  than  recount  all  those  miseries  and  hard- 
ships which  this  poor  Prince  endured  for  the  sakes  of  his  subjects."  (John 
Dauncy,  History  of  Charles  11^  ed.  1660,  p.  127.) 


CHAPTER    IV 

1651-60:  THE  SECOND   EXILE 

**  Of  a  tall  stature,  and  a  sable  hue. 
Much  like  the  son  of  Kish,  that  lofty  Jew, 
Twelve  years  complete,  he  suffered  in  exile, 
And  kept  his  father's  asses  all  the  while. 
At  length,  by  wonderful  impulse  of  fate, 
The  people  call  him  home  to  help  the  state, 
And  what  is  more,  they  send  him  money  too. 
And  clothe  him,  all,  from  head  to  foot,  anew. " 

Marvell,  An  Historic c  I  Poem ^  11.  i-8. 

Charles  arrives  at  Paris  ;  his  treatment  there — Mile,  de  Mont- 
pensier — Duchesse  de  Chastillon — Privations  of  English  Court  in 
Paris— Factions  and  quarrels — Charles  goes  to  Germany — Cromwell's 
spies — The  King  at  Coin — Attempted  conversion  of  D  jke  of  Gloucester 
—The  "  Sealed  Knot  "—Charles  and  Spain— He  figl.ts  at  Dunkirk- 
Goes  to  Bruges — Death  of  Cromwell — The  King  goes  to  Spain — 
Charles  and  his  sister — Declaration  of  Breda  and  proclamation  of 
Charles  in  England — He  leaves  Holland,  and  lands  at  Dover — Journey 
to  London. 

MOROSINI  the  Venetian  ambassador  beheld 
Charles'  entry  into  Paris,  and  writes  :  "  His 
retinue  consisted  of  one  genthman  and  one 
varlet,  and  his  costume  was  more  calculated  to  induce 
laughter  than  respect ;  his  appearance,  in  short,  being  so 
changed,  that  the  outriders  who  first  came  up  with  him, 
thought  he  must  be  one  of  his  own  menials."  This 
account  is  somewhat  curious,  since  the  Eling  was  in  a 
royal  carriage  with  his  mother  and  brother ;  and  we 
remember  that  Sambourne  of  Rouen  had  provided  him 
with  new  clothes  ;  but,  as  we  also  hear  thct  Charles  was 


.i^" 


no 


CHARLES   II   AND    HIS   COURT 


BABLON 


III 


a 


It 


'!. 


I 


|l 


I' 


indebted  to  Lord  Jermyn  for  his  first  clean  shirt,  it  seems 
that  the  good  merchant  was  not  over  generous  to  his 
King  and  master.  Of  his  travels  Charles  either  said 
nothing,  in  performance  of  his  promise,  or  gave  ridiculous 
and  fictitious  accounts,  accepted  and  afterwards  retailed  in 
perfect  good  faith,  by  many  of  his  audience.  Not  till  he 
was  on  board  the  "  Naseby  "  in  1660,  returning  to  his  king- 
dom, did  Charles  tell  the  true  story  of  his  wanderings. 

Meanwhile,  Buckingham  had  also  escaped  from  Eng- 
land, and   had    landed  at   Rotterdam,  where  he  began 
straightway  to  slander  the  King,  in  obedience  to  some 
extraordinary  whim,  saying  that  Charles  "  had  ill-behaved 
himself  in  the  battle,  and  that  he  lay  now  hidden  in  some 
gentleman's  house,  and  was  happier  in  his  own  opinions, 
than   if  he  was  upon  the  throne."    Though  the  King's 
return  cheered  his  friends,  we  hear  that  he  himself  "  is 
very  sad  and  sombre,  that  cheerfulness  which,  against  his 
nature,  he  strove   to  assume  at  his  first  coming  having 
lasted  but  a  few  days,  and  he  is  very  silent  always,"  even 
so  that  "  he  said  not  one  word  "  when  told  of  the  surrender 
of  Jersey,  though  James  rejoiced  over  the  islanders'  valour, 
"  his  expressions  to  that  purpose  having  been  judged  very 
childish  by  the  standers-by,  as  many  of  his  words  and 
actions  are  daily."     To  Lady  Fanshawe  the  King  seemed 
to  have  grown  strangely  coarse  in  feature  and  reckless  in 
expression  ;  but  Mile,  de  Montpensier  thought  precisely 
the  contrary  ;  "  il  avait  la  meilleure  mine  du  monde,  douce, 
civile,  galante."     Charles   paid  his  former  mistress  much 
attention  ;  "  il  faisait  toutes  les  mines  que  Ton  dit  que  les 
amants  font "  ;  "  he  appeared  to  me,"  says  Anne-Marie,  "  a 
timid  and  diffident  lover,  who  dared  not  say  all  he  felt,  and 
who  preferred  that  I  should  believe  him  indifferent  to  his 
misfortunes,  rather  than  weary  me  by  talking  of  them. 
For,  to  other  people,  he  did  not  speak  of  the  joy  he  felt  at 
being  in  France,  nor  of  his  desire  to  dance." 

Throughout  the  winter  of  1651-52,  "hunting,  dancing, 
balls,  and  masking,"  and  peiits  jeux  were  the  order  of  the 


day— and  night ;  and  amidst  these  frivolous  surroundings, 
the  King's  character  did  not  appear  to  the  hjst  advantage  ; 
and  after  an  especially  earnest  protestation  of  affection,' 
Mademoiselle  retorted  that  unless  Charles  very  quickly 
returned  to  his  kingdom,  he  would  hardly  regain  it.  In 
some  surprise,  Charles  replied  :  "  You  would  not  have  me 
leave  you  as  soon  as  I  have  married  ycu?"  At  last 
Mademoiselle's  suppressed  irritation  burst  out:  "Yes,  for 
then  I  should  be  more  obliged  than  I  am  to  take  your 
interests  to  heart,  and  it  would  pain  me  to  sc;e  you  dancing 
the  tricotet  and  amusing  yourself,  when  instead  you  should 
either  get  knocked  on  the  head  or  replace  your  crown 
upon  it,  of  which  you  would  be  unworthy  if  you  would  not 
go  to  seek  it  at  the  point  of  the  sword  and  the  peril  of 
your  life."  This  seems  rather  hard  on  the  unfortunate 
Charles,  fresh  from  the  horrors  of  his  last  attempt  for  the 
crown,  but  it  sufficiently  shows  Mademoiselle's  impetuous 
temper,  and  also  her  irrepressible,  though  onl^  half-acknow- 
ledged, dislike  to  the  match.  Finally,  tie  lady  grew 
openly  cold,  and  offended  the  King,  who  promptly  fell 
in  love  with  Isabelle  Ang^lique,  widow  of  the  Due  de 
Chastillon.  At  his  first  visit  to  the  French  Court,  Charles 
had  shown  a  distinct  preference  for  this  lady,  which  had 
been  rather  encouraged  than  thwarted,  because  it  gave 
him  "  le  bel  air,"  and  the  lady  was  far  too  much  in  love 
with  her  own  husband  to  listen  to  the  young  Prince.  Now, 
however,  Charles  even  offered  to  marry  the  Duchess,  until 
at  length  dissuaded  by  Hyde,  through  political  considera- 
tions, though  the  Chancellor  and  all  Charles'  Court  had 
fallen  victims  to  the  lady's  wonderful  fascination.  For 
many  years  Charles  remained  on  terms  of  friendship  with 
the  Duchesse  de  Chastillon,  and  under  her  pet  name  of 
Bablon,  often  alludes  to  her  in  his  letters  to  his  sister 
Henrietta.  On  4  December,  1662,  he  writes  from  White- 
hall :  "  You  may  easily  beleeve  that  any  request  which 
comes  from  Bablon  will  be  quickly  despatclied  by  me.  I 
am  striving  all  I  can  to  take  away  the  difficulties  which 


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112  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

obstruct  this  desire  of  hers,  which  in  truth  are  very  greate, 
all  these  things  being  farmed,  and  'tis  not  hard  to  imagine 
that  people  on  this  side  the  watter,  love  profit  as  well  as 
they  do  every  where  else ;  I  have  sent  to  inquire  farther 
into  it,  and  within  five  or  six  dayes  will   give  you  an 
account,  for  I  am  very  unwilling  not  to  grante  Bablon's 
desires,  especially  when  they  come  recommended  by  you. 
In  the   mean   time  I  referre   you  to  this   bearer,  Mon''- 
Vivonne,  who  will  tell  you  how  truly  I  am,  yours,  C.  R." 
Again,  on  28  March,  1663  :  "...  I  am  to  much  Madame 
de  Chitillon's  servant,  to  tell  her  that  I  am  glad  that  she 
is  married  into  Germany  ;  if  she  knew  the  country,  that's 
to  say  the  way  of  liveing  there,  and  the  people,  so  well 
as  I  do,  she   would   suffer  very  much  in  France,  before 
she  would  change  countries,  but  this  is  now  past,  and  I 
shall  desire  you  to  assure  her  that,  upon  any  occasion 
that  lies  within  my  power,  I  shall  ever  be  ready  to  serve 

Bablon.  ..." 

During  his  stay  in  France,  Charles  never  ceased  to  send 
ambassadors  to  every  Court  in  Europe,  in  vain  attempts 
to  raise  money  and  soldiers ;  and  when  Hyde  returned  to 
Paris  from  Spain,  we  find  in  his  correspondence  a  vivid 
picture  of  the  exile's  necessities.     Frequently  the  King 
had  hardly  credit  enough  to  borrow  twenty  pistoles  ;  and 
though  Louis  XIV,  on  being  asked  by  Jermyn  whether  it 
were  his  pleasure  that  his  aunt  and  cousins  should  starve, 
granted  them  a  nominal  pension  of  6cxx)  livres  a  month ; 
this  money  was    irregularly  and  incompletely  paid,  and 
when  paid,  most  of  it  passed  into  Jermyn's  hands  for  the 
household  expenses.     Sea-port  governors  in  France  con- 
tinually made  difficulties  about  harbouring  Charles'  ships, 
or  detained    money  resulting   from   the   sale  of    Prince 
Rupert's  prizes,  so  that  very  little  came  to  the  royal  coffers 
in  that  way.     It  may,  therefore,  be  easily  imagined  that 
while  the  King  was  barely  able  to  dress  and  eat  decently, 
to  play  tennis  and  billiards,  to  visit  the  country  about 
Chantilly,  and  to  indulge  the  imperious  needs  of  the  flesh, 


DISTRESS   OF  THE  ENGLISH  113 

the  courtiers  hardly  existed  at  all.     Only  Jcirmyn  "kept 
an  excellent  table  for  those  who  courted  him,  and  had  a 
coach  of  his  own,  and  all  accommodations  incident  to  a 
most  full  fortune."     But  for  the  rest,  tlie  follo\/ing  extract 
from  Hyde's  correspondence  is  repeated  in  substance,  with 
wearisome  iteration,  till  the  departure  from  Paris  in  1654. 
"  It  is  no  wonder  you  should  desire  to  be  eased  as  much 
as  may  be  from  all  kinds  of  charges.     I  am  stre  I  have  as 
much  reason  as  any  man  living  to  join  with  you  in  that 
thrift.     Yett  I  cannot  avoid  the  constant  expease  of  seven 
or  eight  livres  the  week  for  postage  of  my  letl.ers,  which  I 
borrow  scandalously  out  of  my  friends'  pocket  5,  or  else  my 
letters  must  more  scandalously  remain  still   it  the  post- 
house.     I  am  sure  all  those  that  concern  my  p  rivate  affairs 
would  be  received  for  ten  sous  a  week,  so  that  all  the  rest 
are  for  the  King,  from  whom  I  have  not  received  one 
penny  since  I  came  hither.     And  yet  it  is  to  no  purpose 
to  complain,  though  I  have  not  been  master  of  a  crown 
these  many  months,  and  cold  for  want  of  cloties  and  fire, 
and  owe  for  all  the  meat  which  I  have  eaten  these  three 
months,  and  to  a  poor  woman  that  is  not  longer  able  to 
trust.     My  poor   family  at  Antwerp— which   breaks  my 
heart— is  in  as  sad  a  state,  and  the  King  as  dther  of  us, 
being  in  these  very  personal  distresses.  .  .  ."    "  It  is  not 
possible  for  you  to  conceive  the  miserable  and  necessitous 
condition  we  are  in   here;  no  servant  haviig  received 
one  penny  since  I  came  hither,  and  what  the   King  gets 
being  not  enough  to  provide  him  with  clothes  and  meat." 
In  September,  1652,  Charles  was  reduced  to  eat  his  meat 
in  taverns,  and  in  December  Hyde  had  not  three  sous  to 
buy  a  faggot  wherewith  to  warm  his  numbed  fingers.     In 
June,  1653,  he  says  :  "  I  do  not  know  that  any  man  is  yet 
dead  for  want  of  bread,  which  really  I  wonder  at ! "     In 
November,  Sir   Richard   Browne   sent   "  100  Lewises  in 
gold"  towards  the  King's  "merry  playing,  wiierewith  to 
passe  his  time  at  cards  this  approaching  Christmasse." 
In  April,  1654,  Hyde  and  Ormonde  lacked  shoe  >  and  shirts. 
I 

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,,4  CHARLES  II   AND  HIS   COURT 

Besides  poverty,  the  Royalists  in  Paris  had  to  endure 
taunts  and  reproaches  from  their  brethren  in  England  and 
on  the  Continent,  owing  to  false  reports  of  their  lavish 
and  splendid  way  of  living.     Moreover,  the  little  Court  was 
torn  by  factions ;  at  first,  the  party  of  the  Queen-Mother 
and  Jermyn  (the  Louvrians)  against  that  of  Hyde  and 
the  steadier  cavaliers  ;  and  these  quarrels,  in  spite  of  the 
King's  tact  and  humour,  involved  breaches  between  him 
and  Henrietta,  and  between  Hyde  and  the  Queen.    On 
the  occasion  of  a  Court  ball,  where  Hyde  appeared,  the 
Queen-Mother  of  France  asked  Charies  who  the  fat  man 
sitting  next  to  the  Marquis  of  Ormonde  was.    Charies 
replied  audibly.    "  That  was  the  naughty  man  who  did  all 
the  mischief  and  set  him  against  his  mother."     But  the 
little  which  was  effected  by  the  King's  social  diplomacy, 
was  rendered  futile  by  his  stubborn  indolence.     "  I  do  not 
forget  the  letters  the  King  should  write,  but  he  never  sets 
himself  to  that  work  but  on  Fridays,  and  that  day  hath 
been  of  late  spent  otherwise  by  chance,  as  it  is  to-day,  in 

devotion When  any  thing  is  to  be  done  by  the  King's 

own  hand  we  must  sometimes  be  content  to  wait,  he  being 
brought  very  unwillingly  to  that  task,  which  vexes   me 

exceedingly By  truth  itself,  he  hath  more  judgment 

and  understanding  by  many  degrees  than  many  who  pre- 
tend  to  it,  and  that  is  the  only  thing  that  breaks  my  heart, 
that  he  makes  no  more  use  of  it."  Charies'  bad  habits  at 
this  time  included,  need  we  say,  drunkenness  and  loose 
living,  and  we  find  Hyde  employed  by  the  Queen  "  for  the 
removal  of  a  young  lady  out  of  the  Louvre,  who  had  pro- 
cured a  lodging  there  without  her  Majesty's  consent. 
"All  the  counsel  in  the  worid  cannot  reform  the  King, 
while  he  is  with  the  Queen,  and  he  cannot  be  severe  or 
sharp  in  things   or  to   persons  whom   he   in   no  degree 

approves In  a  word,  the  King  loves  both  you  and  me, 

and  thinks  us  very  honest  and  useful  servants  ;  but  he  will 
sometimes  use  another,  of  whom  he  hath  not  so  good  an 
opinion,  as  well,  or  better,  than  either  of  us.     If  I  did  not 


POVERTY  AND   SICKNESS  115 

serve  the  King  for  God's  sake  I  would  not  sl:ay  here  a  day 
longer." 

The  return  of  Prince  Rupert  to  Paris  in  April,  1653, 
added  the  faction  of  the  "  Swordsmen  "  to  t  le  Court,  who 
inclined  to  the  Louvrian  party,  and  were  quite  hostile  to 
Hyde  ;  and  in  August,  to  crown  the  distresses  of  the  faith- 
ful,  the  King  fell  ill.     "  We  have  been  very  nuch  afflicted 
this  week  with  the  illness  of  our  Master,  who  hath  kept  his 
bed  these  five  days  with  a  continued  burning  fever,  and 
been  five  times  let  blood.     This  last  night  he  I  ath  slept  very 
well  and  is  now  in  much  better  tempers,  so  that  we  hope 
all  danger  is  over,  but  it  is  a  very  melancioly  thing  to 
have  him  ill."     By  September  he  was  somewhat  recovered, 
though  •'  very  weake  and  not  capable  of  much  discourse,'' 
and  he  went  for  a  change  of  air  to  Chantilly  in    October, 
v^hich  restored  him  to  health.     In  December,  the  French 
Court  returned  to  Paris,  and  festivities  begj.n  again,  with 
masques,  plays,  and  dances.     Meanwhile  the  enforced  idle- 
ness  in  a  dissolute  capital  were  ruining  the  King's  character 
and  his  cause ;  and  the  reports  of  his  way  of  life,  as  well 
as   the   false   rumour  of  his   conversion   to  Catholicism,^ 
spread  dissatisfaction  among  his  subjects.     "  It  is  too  true 
and  cannot  be  denied,"  writes  Hyde  to  Nicholas,  "that  the 
King  is  exceedingly  fallen  in  reputation,  which  cannot  be 
recovered  but  by  some  bold  attempt.     Besides,  I  must  tell 
you  he  is  so  much  given  to  pleasure  that  if  he  stay  here 
he  will  be  undone.     Add  to  this  that  the  usage  of  the 
French  towards  him  is  not  to  be  endured  .  .  .  God  send  us 
quickly  from  this  place." 

But  lack  of  money  prevented  Charles  ft-om  leaving 
France — as  the  following  letter  to  Rupert  shows:  "My 
dearest  Cosen,— If  I  had  not  thought  you  woi  Id  have  bene 
here  before  this  time,  I  should  have  written  oftener  and 
fuller  to  you.  The  truth  is,  I  do  only  defer  the  settinge 
down  of  my  going  from  hence  and  resolvinge  which  way  to 

>  Caused    partly  by  his  occasionally  spending   the  afternoon  with   the 
Jesuits  of  Uic  Rue  St.  Antoine. 


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ii6  CHARLES   II   AND    HIS   COURT 

goe  till  I  speake  with  you.     You  know  what  I  am  promised 
to  receive  from  the  French  Court  for  my  journey  ;  in  the 
meane  tyme,  I  am  sure  I  am  not  only  without  money,  but 
have  been  compelled  to  borrow  all  I   have  spent  neare 
these  three   months,  so  that  you  may  easily  judge  how 
some  3600  pistoles  will  be  gone,  and  yett  I  must  expect 
no  more  from   hence,  but   depend  upon  what  you  shall 
bring  me  for  my  ships,  guns,  and  my  share  of  the  prize. 
I  long  to  have  you  here,  and  am  intirely,  dearest  cosen, 
your  most  affectionate  cosen,  Charles  R."    Many  compli- 
cations arose  about  the  guns,  ending  in  a  quarrel  between 
the  cousins ;  yet  on  29  May,  Charles  was  able  to  take 
formal  leave  of  the  French  Court,  and  after  unsuccessful 
attempts  by  Jermyn  and  others  to  reconcile  him  with  his 
mother,  he  left  Paris  on  10  July,  travelling  on  horseback, 
his  coach-horses  drawing  a  light  cart  with  his  clothes  and 
bedding.    That  night  he  was  the  guest  of  Mme.  de  Chas- 
tillon  at  Merlou  ;  thence  he  passed  to  P6ronne,  where  the 
French  army  lay,  and  bade  farewell  to  his  brother  James. 
On  14  July  he  entered  Cambrai,  and  finally  reached  Spa 
on  the  19th.     And  Hyde  writes  to  Taylor  :  "The  King  is 
now  as  low  as  to  human  understanding  he  can  be."     At 
Spa,  Charles  was  the  guest  of  his  sister  Mary  of  Orange. 
Henceforth,  the  Court  was  faithfully  attended  by  Crom- 
well's spies,  and  it  is  largely  from  their  reports  that  we 
know  how  the  exiles  spent  their  time. 

On  6  August,  the  King  writes  to  Elizabeth  of  Bohemia: 
"I   am  just  now    beginning  this   letter   in    my  sister's 
chamber,  where  there  is  such  a  noise  that  I  never  hope  to 
end  it,  and  much  less   write  sense  ...  I  shall  only  tell 
your  Majesty  that  we  are  now  thinking  how  to  pass  our 
time,  and  in  the  first  place  of  dancing,  in  which  we  find  to 
difficulties,  the  one  for  want  of  fiddlers,  the  other  for 
somebody  both  to  teach  and  to  assist  at  the  new  dances. 
I  have  got  my  sister  to  send  for  Silvius  as  one  that  is  able 
to  perform  both.     For  the  fideldedies  my  lord  Taafe  does 
promise  to  be  their  convoy,  and  in  the  meantime  we  must 


PRINCF.   WH-LIAM    II   OF  0RAN(;E  AND   HIS   I'.RIDE,    PRINCESS   MARY 

HENRIETTA  STUART 

FROM     rHK    1'AINT1N(;    »V    VAN     r>VCK    AT    AMSIKRIJAM 


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THE  COURT  AT  THE  SPA 


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content  ourselves  with  those  that  makd  no  difference 
between  a  himme  and  a  coranto."  Later  John  Adams 
the  spy  writes  :  "  There  is  not  a  day  or  nig] it  but  there  are 
balls  and  dansinge.  I  think  the  ayre  makes  them  inde- 
fatigable, for  they  danse  the  whole  afternocne,  then  goe  to 
supper  and  after  they  goe  into  the  meadows  and  dance 
there.  None  so  much  commended  as  our  King,  who 
indeede  is  growne  a  lustie  and  proper  pers  on  ;  gaines  the 
affection  of  all  by  his  affable  and  free  carriage  amongst 
them.  So  doth  the  Princess  Royal  who  is  a  gallant  lady. 
'Tis  admirable  in  Princes  to  see  how  loving  they  are.  The 
Court  is  full  of  brave  gentlemen,  Here  is  my  Lord  Ormonde, 
Lord  Taafe,  Lord  Wentworth,  Lord  Wilmot,  Earl  of 
Rochester,  Chancellor  Hyde,  and  Secretary  Nicholas 
expected  .  .  .  This  morning  I  was  for  two  hours  hearing 
R.  C.  [Royal  Charles]  discoursinge  sporting«i,  and  drinkinge 
the  waters  upon  a  mountain  near  this  towne.  R.  C.  is 
much  given  to  dancinge  ...  for  all  his  dar  cinge,  I  believe 
he  has  a  heavy  heart.  ...  He  went  in  a  coach  with  five 
horses  this  mominge  to  the  fountaine  and  returned  on 
horseback.  The  traine  of  R.  C.  heere  is  aot  verie  great, 
he  has  not  above  thirtie,  but  they  live  well  and  are  very 
merry,  all  of  them."  The  increased  cheerfulness  was 
partly  due  to  the  departure  from  Paris  and  the  new 
scenes  :  but  it  was  soon  dissipated  by  an  epidemic  of 
small-pox  which  caused  the  Court  to  remove  hastily 
to  Aachen  [Aix-la-Chapelle]  on  21  August.  "All  the 
Cavaliers  here  doe  bathe  themselves  daylie,but  R.  C.  him- 
selfe  since  his  coming  hither  appeares  not  abroade  at  all. 
The  reason  I  do  not  know,  but  matter  of  state,  as  with 
Princes."  The  reason  was  business :  amonjy  other  things, 
"  R.  C."  had  heard  of  Middleton's  defeat  in  Scotland,  and 
declared  that  he  would  rather  die  honourab  \y  than  "  live  in 
such  contemptible  calamityes."  On  7  September,  Charles 
and  his  sister  attended  vespers  in  the  Cathedral,  and  after 
service  examined  the  relics,  and  the  King  drawing  Charle- 
magne's   sword    out  of   the    scabbard,  and    saluting  it 


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ii8  CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 

reverently,  measured  it  with  hi.s  own.  After  this,  Mary 
began  to  take  the  waters,  her  brother  walking  every  morn- 
ing to  meet  her^t  Caesar's  Bath,  dressed  in  black  with 
white  silk  stockings,  wearing  the  blue  ribbon  and  Garter ; 
and  accompanied  by  five  or  six  gentlemen.  The  rest  of 
the  stay  at  Aachen  was  filled  by  afternoon  visits,  morn- 
ing  hunting-parties,  and   "mirth,   singing,   dancing,   and 

drinking,"  at  night. 

On  Thursday,  8  October,  Charles  and  Mary  set  out 
towards  Coin,  sleeping  the  night  at  Juliers,  and  reaching 
Coin  about  five  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the  9th.     They 
were   received  enthusiastically  by  laity  and  clergy,  and 
Charles  was   finally    asked    to  stay   in    Coin,  which  he 
decided  to  do ;  and  ever  afterwards  he  retained   kindly 
feelings  towards  the  people  of  the  city ;  and  Evelyn  tells 
us  that  a  few  days  after  the  Restoration  he  received  a 
congratulatory  embassy  from  Coin,  "  his  Majesty  saying 
they  were  the   best  people  in  the  world,  the  most  kind 
and  worthy  to  him  that  he  ever  met  with."     On  the  29 
October,  King  and  Princess  went  by  water  to  Dusseldorf 
in  order  to  visit  Philip  William,  Count  Palatine  of  Neu- 
burg  ;  by  him  they  were  magnificentiy  entertained,  and 
Charles  made  a  new  and  true  friend  in  the  Count.     After 
leaving  Dusseldorf  the  King  v/ent  on  with  his  sister,  on 
her  way  to  Holland,  leaving  her  on   S  November,  and 
returned  to  Coin. 

At  Coin  that  winter,  the  courtiers  were  occupied  in 
internal  dissensions,  thereby  greatiy  pleasuring  the  Palais 
Royal    faction.      Charles    "betook    himself    with    great 
cheerfulness  to  compose  his  mind  to  misfortune,  and  with 
a   marvellous  contentedness   prescribed  so    many    hours 
a  day   to  the  study  of  botii  the    French  and   Italian 
languages."     For  exercise  the  King  hunted  and  walked, 
for  he  kept  no  coach  all  the  time  he  was  at  Coin.    From 
one  hunting  "none  returned  sober  but  the  greatest  and 
Tom  Elliot  to  attend  him."     "  All  that'  I  can  say  now  is 
that  R.  C.  is  here  with  a  few  in  his  company.      The 


COLN 


119 


weather  is  very  cold,  and  so  almost  every  day  he  walks 
with  his  said  company  a-foot  about  the  walls  of  this 
city,  and  they  all  bare-headed  after  him  ;  so  they  get 
themselves  health."  Also  colds,  we  imagine:  and  it 
would  doubtless  have  been  better  for  riany  of  the 
courtiers  if  periwigs  had  come  into  fashio  1 :  we  have  a 
witness  to  their  warmth  in  a  letter  of  the  French  ambas- 
sador de  Comminges  to  M.  de  Lionne,  7-17  July,  1664. 
"Pour  ne  vous  pas  laisser  alarme  de  la  nialadie,  vous 
s^aurais  qu'il  y  a  quatre  ou  cinq  jours  que  le  Roy  avec  les 
Reines  all^rent  en  barges  voir  les  vaisseiux  qui  sont 
sortis  du  Port  de  Chatam,  et  que  durant  la  s^rande  ardeur 
du  soleil,  le  Roy  quitta  sa  perruque  et  son  pourpoint ;  k 
son  retour  il  se  trouva  fort  enrhum^,  ce  qui  obligea  les 
m^decins  de  le  faire  saigner.  Le  lendemaiii  il  se  trouva 
avec  un  peu  de  fievre,  et  ce  matin  il  a  beaucoup  su6,  et  se 
trouve  fort  soulag^,  et  sans  aucune  Chaleur." 

As  regards  money  the  King  was  better  off  at  Coin 
than  ever  before  during  his  exile,  for  the  Coiners  had  given 
him  a  "house,  firing,  bread,  and  wine";  and  under  the 
careful  management  of  Sir  Stephen  Fox,  his  household 
and  its  expenses  were  being  reduced  to  tolerably  good 
order.  Of  the  lighter  relaxations  we  get  many  glimpses 
in  Charles'  letters  to  Henry  Bennet,^  and  otliers  :  "  Harry, 
you  may  easily  believe  that  my  approbaJon  for  your 
coming  hither  would  not  be  very  hard  to  get,  and  if  you 
had  no  other  business  here,  than  to  give  nie  an  account 
how  Arras  was  relieved,  or  who  danced  best  at  the  mask 
at  Paris,  you  should  be  as  welcome  as  I  can  make  you.  I 
will  not  say  any  more  to  you  now,  because  I  hope  it  will 
not  be  many  days  before  you  will  see  how  we  pass  our 
time  at  Collen,  which  though  it  be  not  so  \^  ell  as  I  could 
wish,  yet  I  think  it  as  well  as  some  of  you  do  at  Paris ;  at 
least  some  that  are  here  would  not  pass  their  time  so  well 
there  as  they  do  here,  and  it  may  be  you  will  be  one  of 
that  number.    One  of  the  greatest  alterations  you  will  find 

^  Afterwards  Lord  Arlington. 


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CHARLES   II   AND    HIS   COURT 


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i.i! 


'^!i 


here  is,  that  my  Lord  Taff  is  one  of  the  best  dancers  in 
the  country,  and  is  the  chief  man  at  all  the  balls  ;  I  believe 
he  is  as  good  at  it,  as  one  of  your  friends  at  Paris  is  at 
making  French  verses ;  I  have  nothing  to  add  to  this, 
but  to  tell  you  you  will  find  me  still  a  true  Bablon.^ 
Charles  Rex."^ 

The  most  serious  business  which  occupied  Charles  and 
his  advisers  now  was  the  attempted  conversion  by 
Henrietta  of  Henry,  Duke  of  Gloucester.  The  boy  had 
arrived  in  Paris  before  the  King's  departure,  but  could  not 
accompany  his  brother,  owing  to  his  youth  and  the 
increased  expense  his  presence  would  entail.  Charles  left 
the  little  Duke  with  the  charge  to  obey  his  mother  in 
everything  save  religion  ;  to  "  never  miss  the  chapel  on 
Sunday  morning.  .  .  .  Intend  your  book  and  your  exer- 
cises diligently,  and  sett  some  tyme  apart  every  daye  to 
spend  at  your  book  with  your  tutor,  and  be  always  kind 
and  regardful  to  him."  Seizing  on  an  excuse  of  removing 
him  from  bad  company,  the  Queen  opened  her  attack 
almost  immediately  after  the  King's  departure,  and  con- 
tinued her  campaign  by  alternate  caresses  and  threats, 
and  finally  by  force,  so  that  had  it  not  been  for  Henry's 
courage,  his  page  John  Griffith's  devotion,  and  the  timely 
arrival  of  Ormonde,  the  Catholics  might  have  gained  an 
important  royal  convert,  exactly  when  it  would  have  been 
fatal  to  the  King's  interests.  Henry's  letters  to  his  brother 
were  intercepted,  until  one  of  6  November,  1654  :  "  Sir, — 
on  Wednesday  last  I  came  from  Pontoise,  and  to-day  the 
Queene  spoke  to  me  about  my  religion,  telling  me  that 
she  would  have  me  instructed  in  hers.  Upon  that  I  told 
her  what  commands  the  King  my  father  left  me,  and  what 
the  instructions  were  that  I  had  received  from  your 
Majesty,  both  to  shew  the  care  your  Majesty  had  of  me 
in  that,  and  also  to  shew  that  it  came  from  your  Majesty's 
self,  and  upon  that  I  did  desire  that  the  Queen  would 

^  I.e.  servant  of  Mme.  la  Dachesse  de  Chastillon. 
*  22  December,  1654. 


> 


LETTERS   ON   RELIGION  121 

write  to  your  Majesty  before  I  should  heare  any  disputing. 
Then  the  Queen  told  me  that  I  being  to  go  to  Mr.  Crofts, 
she  did  not  think  fitting  that  Mr.  Lovell  sliould  goe  with 
me,  but  that  he  should  stay  here  till  I  should  come  bake, 
and  that  she  did  not  intend  to  put  him  awa)',  but  to  absent 
him  for  a  little  while,  and  for  the  time  that  he  shall  not  be 
with  me  she  will  allow  him  a  pension.     This  is  all  that 
was  sayd  to  me  now,  and  when  anything  els  3  shall  be  sayd 
to  me,  I  shall  not  faile  to  give  your  Majesty  an  account, 
as    becomes     your     Majesty's    most    affectionate,    most 
obedient,  and  most  humble,  brother,  subject,  and  sen^ant, 
Henry."     When   this   reached    Charles,  th-   Duke's  first 
letter  had  also  arrived,  and  Hyde  says:    *I  have  never 
seen  the  King  so  awakened  as  in  this  business,  ...  in  so 
great  trouble  and  perplexity,  nor  of  that  quicknesse  and 
sharpnesse  in  providing  against  a  mischief"     Charles  at 
once  wrote  to  Henry  as  follows  :  "Dear  Brother,  I  have  re- 
ceived  yours  without  a  date,  in  which  you  mention  that  Mr. 
Montagu  has  endeavoured  to  pervert  you  in  your  religion. 
I  do  not  doubt  but  you  remember  very  well  Ihe  commands 
I  left  with  you  concerning  that  point,  and  am  confident  you 
will  observe  them.     Yett  the  letters  that  come  from  Paris 
say  it  is  the  Queen's  purpose  to  do  all  she  can  to  change 
your  religion,  which,  if  you  herken  to  her,  or  to  any  one 
else  in  that  matter,  you  must  never  thinke  to  see  Englande 
or  me  againe,  and  whatsoever  mischiefe  shall  falle  to  me 
or  my  affairs  upon  this  thing,  I  must  lay  al    upon  you  as 
being  the  only  cause  of  it.     Therefore  consider  what  it  is 
not  only  to  be  the  cause  of  the  mine  of  a  brother  that 
loves  you  so  well,  but  also  of  your  King  and  country,  and 
doe  not  lett  them  persuade  you  either  by  force  or'  fine 
promises.     For  the  first  they  will  neither  <lare,  nor  will 
use,  and  for  the  seconde,  as  soon  as  they  lave  got  you 
they  will  have  their  end  and  will  care  no  more  for  you.     I 
heare  also  that  there  is  a  purpose  to  put  you  into  the 
Jesuits'  College,  which  I  command  you,  upon  the  same 
grounds,  never  to  consent  to.     And  whensoever  anybody 


ii 


II 
1 


m\ 


'ir 


i^i 


122 


CHARLES   II  AND    HIS   COURT 


shall  goe  to  dispute  with  you  on  religion  do  not  answer 
them  at  all,  for  though  you  have  reason  on  your  side,  yet 
they,  being  prepared,  will  have  the  advantage  of  anybody 
that  is  not  upon  the  same  security  that  they  are.     I  have 
commanded  this  bearer,  my  Lord  of  Ormonde,  to  speake 
more  at  large  to  you  upon  this  subject,  therefore  give  him 
credit  in  all  that  he  shall  say  to  you,  as  if  it  were  from  my- 
self. And  if  you  doe  not  consider  v/hat  I  say  to  you,  remem- 
ber the  last  words  of  your  deade  father,  which  were,  to  be 
constant  in  your  religion,  and  never  to  be  shaken  in  it ;  which, 
if  you  do  not  observe  this,  shall  be  the  last  time  you  will 
ever  heare  from  your  most  affectionat  brother,  Charles  R." 
On  the  arrival  of  the  second  letter,  Charles  wrote :  "  Deare 
Brother,  I  have  received  yours  of  the  6th  of  this  month, 
and  am  very  glad  to  find,  both  by  your  own  letter  as 
well  as  by  others,  your  handsome  carriage  in  this  businesse, 
which  really  has  joyed  me  so  much,  that  I  cannot  say 
enough  to  thank  you  for  it,  and  to  encourage  you  in  the 
continuance  of   that    which  you    have  so  well  begun." 
Ormonde,  by  care  and  shrewdness,  and  at  the  expense  of 
an  open  rupture  with  the  Queen,  finally  rescued  the  Duke, 
and  travelling  through   Holland,  the  boy  reached  Coin 

in  May. 

In  February,  1655,  the   King  seriously  alarmed  his 
followers  by  disappearing  from  Coin,  leaving  no  clue  as 
to  his  intended  destination.     As  a  matter  of  fact,  Charles 
went  to  Middelburgh  in  Zealand,  hoping  to  be  called  to 
England  by  the  "  Sealed  Knot ''  and  other  Royalists ;  but 
a  premature  rising  being  easily  suppressed,  Charles  retired 
in  April  to  Coin.     The  expenses  of  this  expedition,  and 
other  causes,  had  reduced  the  King  and  Court  to  extreme 
poverty,  and  factions  were  as  prevalent  as  ever.     "The 
King  hath  not  money  enough  to  provide  meate  for  himself 
for  the  next  10  days,  nor  have  I,  at  any  time,  seen  the 
Court  in  greater  want,  save  that  there  is  not  any  impor- 
tunity  from  the  inhabitants  of  this  place  for  the  money 
dew  to  them.    And  yet  of  2000  dollars  borrowed  from  one 


LETTERS  TO   PARIS  123 

person  to  inable  the  King  to  make  his  last  journey,  there 
remayne  still  1200  unpayd.  Add  to  this  three  months 
arrears— soe  much  there  will  be  on  Thursday  next— for 
boarde  wages  to  the  family,  and  the  extreame  necessity 
many  honest  men  are  in  who  came  lately  and  indeede 
come  every  day  from  England  and  Scotland;  and  then 
think  with  yourself  how  easy  this  place  is  like  to  be  to  the 
King  and  those  who  are  trusted  in  his  aflff.irs.  There  is 
nothing  to  support  all  these  pressures  but  the  expectation 
of  the  money  from  the  German  Princes  who  are  so  slow  in 
paying  though  they  multiply  their  promises."  Meanwhile 
Charles  and  Henry  both  studied  Italian,  and  James  or 
Bennet  sent  from  Paris  the  Ga^eUe  Burlesque,  and  some- 
times songs  of  the  last  ballet.  On  25  May,  the  King  wrote 
to  Bennet :  " Pray  send  me  some  of  Duply's  opiat  and 
water  for  the  Teeth  ; "  on  8  June  :  "  Do  not  forget  to  send 
me  the  Gazette  Burlesque  every  week ; "  on  5  July :  "  My 
cloaths  are  at  last  come,  and  I  like  them  veiy  well  all  but 
the  sword,  which  is  the  worst  I  ever  saw.  [  suspect  very 
much  that  it  was  you  that  made  the  choice,  and  therefore 
you  have  no  other  way  to  recover  your  judgment  in  that 
particular  but  to  make  choice  of  a  better,  an-l,  if  you  go  to 
the  shop  where  I  bought  mine  when  I  came:  out  of  Paris, 
you  can  hardly  be  mistaken.  My  brother  can  tell  you 
where  it  is;'*  on  17  August :  "You  must  not  expect  to 
hear  from  me  very  often  as  long  as  my  sister  is  here,  for 
you  may  easily  guess  that  I  will  be  in  her  company  as 
much  as  I  can  while  she  stays  here ;  and  indeed  Collen  is 
not  a  little  altered ;  for  from  having  very  li.tle  company, 
and  some  of  those  worse  than  none,  we  have  now  as  good 
as  can  be,  and  pass  our  time  as  well  as  peop  e  can  do  that 
have  no  more  money,  for  we  dance,  and  play  as  if  we  had 
taken  the  Plate  fleet,  though  I  am  confident  our  losses  are 
not  so  great  as  Cromwell's  is,  who  for  certain  has  received 
a  very  considerable  one  at  Hispaniola:  tlie  particulars 
hereof  you  will  hear  from  others.  I  have  nD  more  to  say 
at  present.     Charles  Rex;"   on  18  August:  "I  will  try 


i 


■ 


I 


r 


If 


i'i 


124  CHARLES   II   AND    HIS   COURT 


whether  Sir  S.  Corapton  be  so  much  in  love  as  you  say, 
for  I  will  name  Mrs.  Hyde  before  him  so  by  chance,  that 
except  he  be  very  much  smitten  it  shall  not  at  all  move 
him.     Pray  get  me  pricked  down  as  many  new  corrants 
and  sarrabands  and  other  little  dances  as  you  can,  and 
bring  them  with  you,  for  I  have  got  a  small  fiddler  that 
does  not  play  ill  on  the  fiddle.     Charles  Rex  ; "  on   14 
September:  "My  sister  and  I  go  on  Monday  next  to  the 
Fair  at  Frankfort  incognito,  ...  It  shall  be  hard  but  I 
will  find  some  businesse  for  you  to  come  where  we  are  this 
winter,  which  I  hope  will  not  be  in  this  place.     Charles 
Rex;"  on  18  October:  "...  P.S.  I  have  given  Buckley 
a  note  for  you  to  keep  the  mill  going,  it  should  have  been 
more  if  I  had  had  it."    In  October,  Bennet  sent  the  sword, 
saying  :  "  It  hath  the  approbation  of  men  of  the  profession, 
which  makes  me  hope  your  Majesty  will  like  it.     The 
workman  by  the  Louvre  made  it." 

The  Mercurius  Politicus  of  25  October,  1655,  tells  us 
of  the  journey  to  the  Fair :  "  Having  been  lately  at  Frank- 
fort Fair,  I  saw  there  the  Scottish  King,  as  they  call  him, 
with  whom  there  was  his  sister  the  Princess  of  Orange, 
and  his  youngest  brother,  Henry,  who  travelled  all  together 
from  Cologne  to  Frankfort.     That  they  might  seem  to  go 
the  more  privately  they  took  no  great  retinue  with  them. 
Charles  had  for  his  attendants,  the  Marquis  of  Ormonde, 
the  old  Lord  Goring,^  and  Mr.  O'Neil,  groom  of  his  bed- 
chamber.    Of  the  attendants  of  his  sister  of  Orange  there 
was  my  Lady  Stanhope  and  Heenvliet  her  husband,  and 
Mrs.  Lane,  together  with  some  inferior  servants.    When 
they  went  from  Cologne,  they  were  in  a  coach  with  six 
horses,  and  in  this  equipage  they  marched  beyond  Bonn, 
the  place  where  the  Elector  of  Cologne  used  to  keep  his 
Court.     The  next  day  they  had  a  pleasure-boat  met  them, 
wherein  they  all  embarked  themselves,  and  so  were  drawn 
up  the   river  all  the  way  to  Frankfort.     Their  way  of 
travelling  was  very  convenient,  for,  besides  the  greater, 

^  Earl  of  Norwich. 


FRANKFORT  125 

they  had  two  lesser  boats  fastened  to  it.  In  one  they 
conveyed  all  their  beds,  trunks,  and  wardrobes,  and  they 
made  a  kitchen  of  the  other,  which  was  a  very  fine  accom- 
modation  for  this  water  voyage  that  contin  jed  for  four  or 
five  days,  having  all  their  victuals  dressed  at  hand,  and  at 
table  there  was  no  state  or  distinction  amon^  them',  eating 
altogether,  as  I  hear,  to  make  the  more  rierry.  '  In  the 
acting  of  this  frolic  they  would  needs  pretend  to  pass 
incognito,  yet  carried  the  matter  so  notoriously  that  it  was 
known  all  abroad,  and  therefore,  in  every  P-ince's  country 
they  passed  through,  they  had  the  civility  of  a  compliment 
by  their  chief  officers,  and  were  saluted  by  the  great 
ordnance  of  all  their  towns  and  castles.  Bit  the  compli- 
ment was  most  remarkable  in  the  Elector  of  Mayence  * 
country,  whose  grandmaster  came  and  invited  them  to  his 
master's  court.  But  at  present  they  put  off  the  invitation 
with  an  excuse,  and  sent  a  lord,  the  Lord  N«iwburgh,  back 
with  the  Marshal  to  give  the  Elector  thanks,  and  to  let 
him  know  their  great  occasions  at  Frankfort  Fair  could  not 
be  dispensed  with  then,  but  in  their  return  tliey  would  not 
fail  to  visit  his  Electoral  Highness." 

While  at  Frankfort,  Charles  met  the  eccentric  Christina 
of  Sweden  at  Konigstein,  and  refused  to  meei:  his  renegade 
cousin  Charies  Louis,  Elector  Palatine  of  the  Rhine,  even 
leaving  the  theatre  to  avoid  speaking  to  him  For,  unlike 
Rupert  and  Maurice,  the  Elector  had  shown  strong  Pariia- 
mentary  sympathies,  until  the  murder  of  hi;j  uncle  forced 
him  to  some  show  of  decent  disapproval.  In  November, 
the  Court  returned  to  Coin;  and  "all  our  company  very 
well  pleased  with  our  voyage,  for  indeed  it  was  as  pleasant 
a  journey  as  ever  I  saw." 

Cromwell  had  just  allied  himself  with  France,  and 
attacked  Spain ;  so  in  March,  1656,  Charies  \^ent  incognito 
to  Brussels  to  meet  the  Spanish  ministers  li^^uensaldanha 
and  Alonzo  de  Cardenas.  On  Wednesday,  8  March,  he 
left  Coin  with  two  servants  and  an  escort  of  twelve  horse ; 

^  Mainz 


1 


% 


'  ll 


M 


126  CHARLES  II  AND   HIS   COURT 

leaving  his  escort  outside  Spanish  territory,  he  arrived 
on  Saturday  at  the  "  Sun "  Inn,  Louvain,  whence  de  Vic 
escorted  him  to  Brussels.     Flustered  and  displeased,  the 
Spaniards  declined  to  treat  with  Charles  in  person,  and 
requested  him  to  retire  to  Vilvord,  a  league  from  Brussels. 
Here   Charles  spent  his  time   reading   Spanish,  writing 
letters,  and  playing  cribbage  with  Rochester  and  Bennett. 
On  19  March,  the  King  writes  to  Ormonde :  "  Pray  send 
as   good  news  to-morrow  as  the  wine  and  mutton  was 
to-day.     God  sende  you  better  lucke  at  pickett  than  I 
have  with  Harry  Bennett  at  cribbadge.     If  you  can  find 
no  other  book  in  Italian  worth  sending,  lett  me  have,  by 
the  first  that  comes.  Pastor  Fidor  ^     On  12  April,  a  treaty 
was  signed  at  Brussels  between  Charles  and  Spain ;  and 
on  Wednesday  the  19th,  the  King  went  to  Bruges,  lodging 
at  first  in  the  house  of  the  Irish  Viscount  Taragh,  or  Tara, 
in  the  Old  Burgh  Street.     On  3  June  he  moved  to  a  house 
in  the  High  Street,  where  he  stayed  till  7  February,  1658, 
when  he  went  to  Brussels.    Many  Highlanders  found  their 
way  to  Bruges  during  Charles'  residence,  and  astonished 
the  natives  by  their  national  costume.     The  King  found 
himself  once  more  in  great  straits  for  money,  to  pay  his 
old  debts  at  Coin  and  his  new  ones  at  Bruges :  still  he 
writes  to  Bennett  in  Paris,  in  July,  1656 :  "  I  have  nothing 
to  say,  only  that  you  bespeak  six  pair  of  shoes  of  my 
Paris  shoomaker,  such  as  he  sent  me  last,  and  as  many 
pair  more  made  by  Dyke,  but  tell  this  latter  that  three 
pair  must  be  black  and  the  other  coloured,  and  a  little 
bigger  than  those  he  sent  me  last.     Remember  to  bespeak 
my  sword";  on   1 1  August:  "I   have  taken  pills  this 
morning ;  which  hinders  me  from  saying  much  more  to 
you.  ...  I  would  have  you  bring  me  two  bever  hatts. 
For  my  Lord  Bristol's  sword  I  do  by  no  means  like  it ;  do 
not  bespeak  mine  of  that  fashion.      Charles  Rex " ;  on 
I   September:   "You  will  find  by  my  last,  that  though 

»  By  Guarini  (1590) :  translated  by  Sir  Richard  Fanshawe,  Ambassador 
from  Charles  II  to  the  Court  of  Spain. 


BRUSSELS 


127 


I  am  furnished  with  one  small  fidler,  yet  I  would  have 
another  to  keep  him  company ;  if  you  can  get  either  he 
you  mention,  or  another  that  plays  well,  I  v\  ould  have  you 
do  it.     Charles  Rex." 

On  II  June,  1656,  Charles  and  Henr>  attended  the 
festival  of  the  Society  of  S.  George  of  Crossbowmen, 
and  on  25  June  he  honoured  that  of  S.  J(»hn,  of  archers. 
Charles  promised  a  sum  of  money  to  the  S.  Sebastian, 
and  not  only  gave  them,  in  1662,  a  largei-  amount  than 
that  promised,  but  gave  a  present  also  to  tb;  crossbowmen 
of  S.  George.  While  in  Bruges,  Charles  found  at  least 
one  new  mistress :  Lord  Taafe  writes  to  him  that  Mile. 
d'Imercell  of  the  Brussels  Court  is  charming;  "if  your 
Majesty  be  libre,  which  Mme.  Renenbourg  saies  you  are 
nott,  having  gott  a  new  wan  at  Briges."  This  gives  a 
little  support  to  a  report  of  one  of  Thurlo^'s  spies  about 
this  time,  though  every  word  in  it  need  nc  t  be  believed : 
"There  is  now  a  company  of  French  comedians  at  Bruges 
who  are  very  punctually  attended  by  Charles  Stuart  and 
his  Court,  and  all  the  ladies  there ;  their  most  solemn  day 
of  acting  it  is  the  Lord's  day.  I  think  I  may  truly  say 
that  greater  abominations  were  never  practised  among 
people  than  at  this  day  in  Charles  Stuart's  court.  Forni- 
cation,  drunkenness,  and  adultery  are  esteemed  no  sins 
among  them,  so  that  I  persuade  myself  that  God  will 
never  prosper  any  of  their  attempts." 

During  1656,  Hyde  and  Bristol  strove  desperately  with 
the  Spaniards  and  with  each  other;  the  object  of  both 
being  to  induce  Spain  to  help  the  King  to  invade  England; 
but  Hyde,  cautious  and  practical,  sought  money  first  and 
foremost:  Bristol,  a  brilliant  visionary,  would  have  started 
the  expedition  while  the  King  starved,  and  the  troops 
disbanded  for  lack  of  pay.  One  of  the  cocditions  of  the 
treaty  with  Spain  was  that  all  English  or  Irish  troops  in 
the  service  of  France  should  be  called  into  tliat  of  Spain  ; 
the  commander  of  these  troops  was  James,  Duke  of  York, 
who  was  accordingly  disappointed  and  hurt  A^hen  recalled 


III 


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128 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


il 


i 


|i  I 


i 


to  Brussels  that  he  might  take  the  oath  to  Spain  ;  but  the 
quarrel  between  the  King  and  his  brother  was  made  up  by 
the  tactful  intervention  of  Hyde  and  Ormonde ;  and  on 
1 1  April,  the  three  royal  brothers  went  to  Brussels,  where 
they  went  to  the  comedy,  to  dances  ;  and  "played  at  long 
paume,  a  Spanish  play  with  balls  filled  with  wire,"  and 
also  at  tennis.  Nor  did  Charles  sport  all  his  time  away, 
but  ingratiated  himself  with  Don  Juan  ;  nevertheless, 
according  to  the  "Spanish  method,"  business  went  on 
very  slowly,  and  was  complicated  by  the  death  of  the 
emperor  Ferdinand  III.  In  1657,  Charles  desired  earnestly 
to  join  the  Spanish  army,  but  was  at  first  refused  per- 
mission, and  afterwards,  when  a  grudging  leave  was  wrung 
from  Don  Juan,  had  not  enough  money,  as  Hyde  writes 
on  5  September :  "  I  am  sufficiently  weary  of  this  place  ; 
having  looked  over  the  state  of  the  debts  and  finding  that 
every  bit  of  meat,  every  drop  of  drink,  all  the  fyre  and  all 
the  candles  that  have  been  spent  since  the  King's  coming 
hither  is  entirely  owed  for,  and  how  to  get  credit  for  a 
week,  is  no  easy  matter.     I  would  I  were  at  Breda." 

In  October,  Charles  went  to  Bruges,  and  thence  to 
Dunkirk.  Here  he  constantly  risked  his  life  in  the  trenches, 
and  on  the  sands,  and  was  a  somewhat  happier  man,  for 
getting  even  the  smell  of  powder,  and  of  the  sea,  into  his 
nostrils.  In  July  he  had  written  to  Bennett:  "If  this 
winter  pass  without  any  attempt  on  my  part  I  shall  take 
very  little  pleasure  in  living  till  the  next."  The  Spanish 
still  refusing  to  help  Charles  actively  till  they  could  be 
satisfied  as  to  the  actual  readiness  of  the  English  Royalists 
for  co-operation,  Ormonde  was  sent  to  England,  and 
returned  with  a  hopeless  report  Meanwhile  Charles  had 
returned  to  Bruges,  in  December,  1657,  and  by  February, 
1658,  was  in  Antwerp,  where  he  was  joined  by  his  sister 
Mary.  Relations  with  her  had  been  somewhat  strained 
of  late ;  for  the  Princess  had  visited  Paris  in  the  winter  of 
1657,  been  won  over  by  the  Palais  Royal  faction,  and 
entertained  Lord  and  Lady   Balcarres,  whom  the  King 


ANTWERP  12^ 

wished  to  banish  from  her  presence,  as  he  had  banished 
theni  from  his  own  court.     Mary  objected  with  some  heat, 
to  which  Charies  replied  in  a  singulariy  noble  and  dignified 
letter:   "I  do  not  desire  that  you  should  prosecute  all 
persons  I  am  displeased  with,  but  I  certainlv  may  expect 
from  the  kmdness  we  have  always  had  together  that  those 
who  are  justly  in  my  disfavour,  and  who  I  Jiave  told  you 
are  so,  should  not  be  the  better  for  it,  and  that  all  the 
worid  should  see  you  favour  persons  who,  I  think,  deserve 
the   contrary.     I   shall,   for   the   present,  only  name  my 
Lord  Balcarres,  who  I  cannot  choose  but  take  notice  of, 
that  you  have  used  him  much  better  since  I  have  been 
unsatisfied   with  him  than   ever  you  did   before.     Judge 
whether  I  have  not  reason  to  be  troubled  when  everybody 
must  take  notice  of  this  to  both  our  prejuc  ices.     I  will 
only  add  this  was  not  so  two  years  ago,  and  I  cannot 
accuse  myself  of  being  changed  from  what  I  was  then  • 
and  now,  when  I  have  said  all  this,  I  do  assure  you  that 
neither  anything  you  have  done,  nor  anything  you  can  do, 
shall  ever  change  me  from  being,  with  all  the  kindness 
imaginable,  Yours,  &c."     The  feelings  on  both  sides  were 
embittered    by   a    scandal   connecting  the   Princess   and 
young  Henry  Jermyn. 

At  Antwerp,  the  Comte  de  Marchin  was  made  a  Knight 
of  the  Garter,  and  shortly  after  the  Marchioness  of  Newcastle 
gave  a  great  ball.  «  The  ball  at  my  Lord  Nev^castle's  was 
on  Wednesday  night,  where  the  Duchess  of  Lc  rraine,  with 
her  son  and  daughter,  were,  with  the  King  and  his  brothers 
and  sister;  M.  B.,  and  two  or  three  Frenchmen  were  also 
there,  and  a  little  room  was  well  filled  with  tnost  of  the 

English  here,  and  some  of  the  town The  King  was 

brought  in  with  loud  music,  and  all  being  phced.  Major 
Mohun,  that  was  the  player,  in  a  black  satii  robe  and 
garland  of  bays,  spake  a  speech  in  verse,  of  his  Lordship's 
own  poetry,  wherein  as  much  was  said  of  compliment  to 
His  Majesty  as  the  highest  hyperbole  could  f  ossibly  ex- 
press.    After  that  they  danced  for  two  hour;,  and  then 


li 


h  ,1 


l! 


'i 


II 


l»i 


!l 


I 


I! 


130  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

my  Lady  Moore,  dressed  all  in  feathers,  came  in  and  sung 
a  song  of  the  same  author's,  and  set  and  taught  by  Nicholas 
Lanier.     Then  was  the  banquet  brought  in,  in  eight  great 
chargers  each  borne  by  two  gentlemen  belonging  to  the 
court,  wines  and  other  drinks,  which  being  dispersed  to  all 
the  company,  they  danced  again  for  two  hours  more,  and 
Major  Mohun,  in  the  same  habit,  ended  all  with  another 
speech  by  way  of  prophecy  of  his  Majesty's  establishment." 
The  Duchess  of  Newcastle  herself  speaks  of  this  ball  as  a 
small  entertainment,  "such  as  his  present  condition  was 
able  to  afford  them.  .  .  .  And  some  other  time  his  Majesty 
passing  through  the  city  was  pleased  to  accept  of  a  private 
dinner  at  my  Lord's  house ;  after  which  I  receiving  that 
gracious  favour  from  his  Majesty,  that  he  was  pleased  to 
see  me,  he  did  merrily  and   in  jest,  tell  me,  "That  he 
perceived   my  Lord's  credit   could   procure   better   meat 
than  his  own ! "     "  Again,  some  other  time,  upon  a  merry 
challenge,  playing  a  game  of  butts  with  my  Lord  (when 
my  Lord  had  the  better  of  him),  '  What '  (said  he)  '  my 
Lord,  have  you  invited  me  to  play  the  rook  with  me?' 
Although  their  stakes  were  not  at  all  considerable,  but 

only  for  pastime." 

On  8  March,  Mary  set  out  for  Breda,  accompanied  by 
her  three  brothers ;  Charles  turned  back  at  Wuestwezel 
and  went  to  Brussels.     On  18  March,  the  steward  of  the 
household.  Sir  Stephen  Fox,  writes  to  Sir  Edward  Nicholas: 
"  We  are  in  the  greatest  want  that  ever  I  saw  in  this  Court, 
nor  have  I  the  least  hope  of  our  arrears.     It  may  be  done 
as  a  disguise,  but  it  is  a  very  unpleasant  one  to  me,  to  be 
forced  to  shift  when  I  am  at  the  end  of  my  credit,  and  the 
day  is  come  for  large  payments  which  have  been  staved 
off  all  this  while."     It  was  now,  too,  that  Ormonde  wrote 
to  Hyde :  "  I  must  now  freely  confess  to  you  that  what 
you  have  written  of  the  King's  unreasonable  impatience  at 
his  stay  in  Bruges  is  a  greater  danger  to  my  hopes  of  his 
recovery  than  the  strength  of  his  enemies,  or  the  weak- 
nesse    and  backwardnesse   of   those    that    professe    him 


ii—  t   i 


HENRIETTA  OF  ORANC^E  131 

friendship.     Modesty,  courage,  and  many  accidents  may 
overcome  those  enemies,  and  unite  and  fix  those  friends, 
but  I  fear  his  immoderate  delight  in  emjDty,  effeminate, 
and  vulgar  conversation  is  become  an  irresistible  part  of 
his  nature,  and  will  never  suffer  him  to  animate  his  own 
designs  and  others'  actions  with  that  spirit  which  is  requi- 
site  for  his  quality,  and  much  more  to  his  fortune.     This, 
to  any  but  to  you  or  him,  or  from  any— unlesse  a  few— 
but  from  mee  or  from  mee  at  any  other  time,  were  too 
bold  a  lamentation,  for  so,  God  knows,  ii:  is.     But  God 
bless  him,  and  fit  him  for  his  work."     It  was  just  now  that 
the  business  of  Lucy  Walters  was  drawing  to  an  end,  and 
after  scenes  of  violence  on  the  part  of  the  King's  agents, 
and  threats  and  recriminations  on  that  of  the  discarded 
mistress,  the  future  Duke  of  Monmouth  had  been  trans- 
ferred  from   his  mother's   care  to  that  oi'  Mr.  Thomas 
Ross. 

In  June,  1658,  Charles  had  an  unsuccessful  interview 
with  De  Retz  at  Zevenbergen,  and  in  Aui^ust  retired  to 
Hoogstraaten,  where  he  amused  himself  witi  hawking  and 
stag-hunting,  and  finally  started  on  a  tour  in  the  United 
Provinces,  in  the  course  of  which,  perhaps,  he  made  that 
secret  visit   to  the  Hague   in  which  he  ^^as  visited  by 
Downing,  the  English  ambassador,  in  the  ^fuise  of  an  old 
reverend-looking   man  with  a  long  grey  lieard,  in  grey 
clothes  ;  his  visitor  strongly  counselled  speedy  flight  from 
Dutch  territory,  as  the  King's  presence  was  already  known. 
Charles  accordingly  returned  to  Hoogstrac.ten,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  fall   in  love  with  Henrietta  of  Orange,  who 
returned  his  affection ;  and  on  the  receipt  cf  the  news  of 
Cromwell's  death,  brought  to  the  King  by  Fox  while  he 
played  at  tennis,  Charles  formally  proposed  for  her  hand. 
But  when  the  hopes  kindled  by  the  Protector  s  death  faded* 
the  Dowager  Princess  of  Orange  refused  her  consent  to 
the  marriage,  and  betrothed  her  daughter  to  the  Prince  of 
Anhalt.     "Eating  such  things  as  he  could  get  to  eat,"  his 
Court  torn  by  factions  and  duels  which  he  was  poweriess 


H 


I'      i     I 


^HMi 


132  CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 

to  prevent,  on  bad  terms  with  his  relatives,  torn  from  the 
woman  he  loved,  Charles'  position  was  truly  pitiable.   Amid 
all  the  stormy  cries  on  this  side  and  on  that,  in  this  time 
of  wavering  and  indecision,  of  lost  causes  and  forlorn  hopes, 
Hyde  and  Colepeper  alone  spoke  wisdom.     "  I  hope  the 
King  will  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  do  any  sudden  thing  ; 
we  shall  have  advantages  offered  if  we  do  not  hurt  our- 
selves with  projects."     Thus  far  Hyde  ;  Colepeper  pointed 
out  that  Monk  was  really  master  of  the  situation.     "  The 
way  to  deal  with  him  is  by  some  fit  person  ...  to  shew 
him  plainly,  and  to  give  him  all  imaginable  security  for  it, 
that  he  shall  better  find  all  his  ends  (those  of  honour, 
power,  profit,  safety)  with  the  King  than  in  any  other  way 
he  can  take.     Neither  are  we  to  boggle  at  any  way  he 
shall  propose  in  declaring  himself,  let  it  at  the  first  be 
Presbytery,  be  King  and  Parliament,  be  a  third  Party,  or 
what  he  will ;  so  it  oppose  the  present  power  it  will  at  last 
do  the  King's  business,  and  after  a  little  time  he  will  and 
must  alone  fall  into  the  track  we  would  have  him  to  go 
in  ;  when  he  is  engaged  past  a  retreat,  he  will  want  you 
as  much  as  you  will  want  him,  and  you  may  mould  him 
into  what  form  you  please." 

The  first  week  in  August  Charles  spent  at  Trevuren, 
where  he  hawked  and  hunted  ;  and  at  4  a.m.,  3-13  August, 
he  left  Brussels  for  Calais,  intending  to  cross  to  Kent ;    at 
Hazebrouck  he  was  overtaken  by  James,  to  whom  he  gave  a 
letter  to  the  governor  of  Boulogne,  and  then  went  on  to 
Calais.    Learning  there  that  Kent  had  not  risen,  but  only 
Lancashire  and  Cheshire,  he  decided  to  try  a  landing  in 
the  West,  and  accordingly  went  by  Boulogne  and  Rouen 
to  St  Malo.     But  early  in  September  came  the  news  of 
Sir  James  Booth's  defeat  in  Cheshire  ;^  and  Charles,  with- 
out saying  anything  to  his  followers,  made  for  Spain,  to  see 
what   his    personal    influence   might  do    in   the  coming 

1  Cf.  Dryden,  Asiraa  Ridwc,  11.  14$-^  • 

"  Booth's  forward  valour  only  served  to  shew 
He  durst  that  duty  pay  we  all  did  owe." 


CHARLES   HIS  OWN  AMBASSADOR      133 

conference    between   Mazarin,   Don   Luis    de   Haro,  and 
Henry  Bennett 

But,  with  extraordinary  contradicto  riness,  Charles 
dallied  and  dawdled  on  the  way  through  France,  as 
though  time  and  treaties  were  about  to  wait  for  him.  On 
22  September,  Charles,  Ormonde,  and  Bristol  reached  La 
Rochelle,  where,  according  to  Charles,  th.iy  waited  eight 
days  for  a  wind,  and  then  passed  on  tov^ards  Toulouse, 
where  the  French  Court  lay.  Ormonde  \;as  sent  thither 
alone,  while  the  King  went  to  Zaragoza,  \vhence  he  wrote 
to  Hyde:  "You  will  wonder  to  find  me  no  further 
advanced  than  this  place,  where  I  arrived  last  night,  for 
the  truth  is  our  greediness  of  getting  into  Spain  with  all 
haste  has  made  us  lose  this  tyme,  as  it  falls  out  more 
unluckily  than  could  be  imagined.  For,  contrary  to  all 
expectations,  Don  Luis  is  still  at  San  Sebastian's.  ...  I 
hope  God  hath  decreed  all  for  the  best.  Our  journey 
hitherto  hath  been  very  lucky,  having  net  with  many 
pleasant  accidents,  and  not  one  ill  one  to  aiy  of  our  com- 
pany, hardly  so  much  as  the  fall  of  a  horse.  But  I  am 
very  much  deceived  in  the  travelling  in  Spaine,  for,  by  all 
reports,  I  did  expect  ill  cheere  and  wcrse  lying,  and 
hitherto  we  have  found  both  the  beds,  and  espetially  the 
meate,  very  good.  The  only  thinge  I  find  troublesome  is 
the  dust,  and  particularly  in  this  town,  there  having  fallen 
no  regne  on  this  side  the  Perineans  thes2  four  months. 
God  keep  you,  and  sende  you  to  eate  as  jjood  mutton  as 
we  have  every  meale."  On  28  October,  (Zharles  arrived 
at  Fuentarabia,  in  accordance  with  Don  Luis'  invitation, 
and  was  courteously  received  and  attended.^  Once  at  the 
seat  of  business,  the  King  behaved  himself  with  consum- 
mate tact  and  ability,  and  won  golden  opin  ons  from  all. 

After  extracting  innumerable  promises,  Charles  made 
a  final  effort  to  secure  Mazarin's  hearty  help  by  offering 

*  According  to  one  account,  Don  Luis  met  Charles  knelt  down  in  the 
muddy  road,  claspt  and  kissed  his  knees,  afterwards  ridinij  bareheaded  beside 
him. 


<  ! 


^l!l 


f"^^ 


134 


CHARLES  II   AND   HIS   COURT 


I 


i 


I 


marriage  to  the  Cardinars  niece  Hortensia  Mancini ;   he 
then  departed  by  Hendaye  and  Bayonne  to  Flanders.    A 
contemporary  comment  on  the  King's  behaviour  at  Font 
Arabie  says  :  "  He  has  behaved  himself  as  if  he  had  been 
bred  more  years  in  Spain  than  in  France  ;   all  his  council 
could  not  deliver  his  business  better,  nor  add  a  syllable  to 
what  he  says.  .  .  .  His  dexterity  and  composedness  hath 
removed  the  fatal  misfortune  of  not  being  [sic],  for  till 
the  King  be  thought  to  understand  his  own  business  and 
to  be  able  to  conduct  it,  all  our  striving  is  against  the 
stream  ;   and  towards  that  good  reputation  an  opinion  of 
his  industry  is  as  necessary  as  of  his  conception."    Mazarin 
refused  the  King's  offer,  saying  that  the  King  of  England 
must  not  stoop  so  low  for  a  wife.     On  his  journey,  Charles 
visited  his  mother  at  Colombes  ;    where  "  the  Queen  was 
in  great  joy  at  meeting  the  King,  and  the  pretty  princess 
his  sister  no  less.     Her  Highness  is  so  grown  the  King  did 
not  know  her,  for  they  brought  his  Majesty  another  young 
lady  whom   he  saluted   for  his   sister,   and   was   in  that 
mistake  till  my  Lord  Gerard  undeceived  him."     Charles 
finally  arrived  at  Brussels    on   26   December,   "a  little 
before  it  was  dark, ...  in  very  good  health  and  very  good 
humour."     The  King  now  settled  down  to  a  life  of  en- 
forced idleness,  having,  as  it  seemed,  played  his  last  card, 
and  he  killed  time  by  writing  letters  to  his  little  sister, 
while  Henry  of  Gloucester  played  tennis ;  and  here  begins 
the  charming  correspondence  between  Charles   and   the 
woman  he  loved  best,  which  only  ends  with  Henriette's 
death :   (7  February,  1660)  :    "  Je  commence  cette  lettre 
icy  en  frangois,  en  vous  assurant  que  je  suis  fort  a.is6  de 
quoy  vous  me  grondez ;  je  me  d^dis  avec  beaucoup  de 
joye,  puisque  vous  me  querellez  si  obligeammant,  mais  je 
ne  me  d^dieray  jamais  de  Tamitid  que  j'ay  pour  vous,  et 
vous  me  donne  tant  de  marques  de  la  vostre,  que  nous 
n'aurons  jamais  autre  querelle  que  celle  de  qui  de  nous 
deux  aimerons  le  plus  Tun  Tautre,  mais  en  cela  je  ne  vous 
c^deray  jamais.     Je  vous  envoye  celle-ci  par  les  mains  de 


FEELING   IN   ENGLAND  135 

Janton,  qui  est  la  meilleure  fille  du  monde.    Nous  parlons 
tons  les  jours  de  vous  et  souhaitons  mille  fois  le  jour  d'estre 
avec  vous.    Sa  voix  lui  est  revenue  quasi  t3ut-a-fait,  et  elle 
chante  fort  bien.     Elle  m'a  appris  le  ohanson   de   ma 
queue,  *  I  prithee,  sweethearte,  come  tell  me  and  do  not 
lie/   et   quantity  d'autres.     Quand   vous   m'envoyerez   le 
scapulaire,  je  vous  promets  de  la  porter  toujours   pour 
Tamour  de  vous.     Dites  k  Mme.    Boude  qui  je  luy  en- 
voyeray  bientdt  mon  portrait.      Presentement  le  peintre 
n'est  plus  en  cette  ville,  mais  il  reviendra  dans  peu  de  jours. 
Mandez-moi,  je  vous  prie,  comme  vous  passez  vostre  temps, 
car  si  vous  avez  6t6  quelque  temps  k  Chaillot,  par  cette 
mdchante  saison,  vous    vous  y  estes  un   peu   beaucoup 
ennuy^e.     Pour  Tavenir,  je  vous  prie,  ne  me  traitez  pas 
avec  tant  de  c^r^monie,  en  me  donnant  ta  nt  de  Majest^s, 
car  je  ne  veux  pas  qu'il  n'y  ait  autre  cbose  entre  nous 
deux  qu'amitid"     (Addressed)  "For  deare,  deare  Sister." 
All  the  King  and  his  followers  could  do  now  was  to 
wait,  while  events  shaped  themselves  in  England.    Those 
events  are  too  well  known  to  need  recapitulation,  but  an 
interesting  letter  to  Hyde  from  a  London  correspondent  on 
30  March— 9  April,  shows  us  the  trend  of  popular  feeling: 
"You  cannot  imagine  how  all  people  bire  are  affected 
with  joy  at  the  hope  of  having  a  King  aga  n.     His  picture 
is  hung  up  in  many  places  in  the  streets,  md  all  that  goe 
by  stop  to  look  upon  it ;  amongst  whom  there  was  one  yester- 
day that  said  he  had  seen  him  lately  and  that  he  was  not 
so  handsome  as  that  picture,  at  which  the  people  were  so 
angry  that  they  fell  upon  the  man  and  beet  him  soundly  ; 
by  which  you   may  judge  of   their  inclinations."      No 
longer  was  there  any  need  for  Pepys  and  his  friends  to 
drink  his  Majesty's  health  in  the  dark  security  of  a  cellar, 
or  country  parsons  to  pray  for  him  "by  periphrasis."    On 
Saturday,  28  April— 8  May,  Sir  John  Gntnvile  delivered 
the  King's  letter  to  Monk,  and  on  Tuesday,  i-ii  May,  the 
letters  and  the  Declaration  of  Breda  were  read  to  Lords 
and  Commons,  who  immediately  voted  j^  50,000  for   the 


Ill 


136 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


II 


1 


King's  immediate  expenses  ;  while  his  Majesty's  letter 
to  the  city  produced  ;f  10,000.  On  8-18  May,  Charles  was 
proclaimed  King. 

Almost  at  the  last  moment,  two  causes  might  have 
delayed  or  prevented  the  Restoration.  Spain  would 
have  detained  Charles  in  her  territories  till  important  con- 
cessions had  been  wrung  from  him,  but  getting  wind  of 
their  intentions,  the  King  left  Brussels  at  3  a.m.  on  the 
21-31  March,  and  came  that  night  to  Breda.  Again, 
Monk,  lending  an  ear  to  Hyde's  innumerable  enemies, 
objected  to  his  attendance  on  the  King,  but  was  finally 
persuaded  to  accept  him.  King  and  Lord  Chancellor 
were  kept  incessantly  busy  in  answering  the  countless 
letters  and  messages  of  congratulation  which  poured  in, 
and  in  despatching  innumerable  details  of  personal,  as  well 
as  of  public  business.  A  letter  dated  "  Bruxselles,  1 2  April, 
1660,"  from  Charles  to  the  Earl  of  Lauderdale,  shows  the 
extreme  caution  which  was  even  then  necessary.  "  I  have 
received  yours  of  the  16,  you  will  easily  beleeve  that  I  am 
very  glad  you  are  at  liberty,  and  in  the  place  where  you 
can  do  me  most  service,  by  disposing  your  frindes  to  that 
temper  and  sobriety  which  must  be  a  principle  ingredient 
to  that  happynesse  we  all  pray  for.  ...  I  know  not  how 
in  this  conjuncture  to  give  our  frindes  you  mention 
any  direction  or  advise,  sinse  what  they  are  to  do  must 
depend  upon  what  is  done  somewhere  else.  I  hope  wee 
shall  shortly  meete,  and  then  you  will  meete  with  all  the 
kindenesse  you  can  wish  from  Your  most  affectionate 
frinde,  Charles  R." 

On  8-18  May,  deputies  of  the  States-General  invited 
Charles  to  the  Hague,  and  on  the  14-24  he  set  out  with 
his  brothers,  sister,  and  nephew,  travelling  partly  by  coach 
and  partly  by  water,  with  military  escorts  and  amid 
shouting  crowds,  and  entered  the  Hague  attended  by 
seventy-two  six-horse  coaches,  led  by  the  State  trumpeters 
in  crimson  velvet.  A  magnificent  banquet  was  given  him, 
and  he  afterwards  said  that  "  he  had  never  supped  better 


LETTER  TO   PRINCESS   HE^  RIETTA     137 

than  on  the  day  he  came  to  the  Hague."     He  slept  in  a 
bed  originally  made  for  his  sister.     The  States  gave  him 
^60,000,   and   ;£-3o,ooo   for  his    expenses  ;    and   granted 
^7500  to  each  of  his  brothers.     While  at  the  Hague,  the 
King   was    besieged    by    crowds    of   place-seekers  'and 
sycophants,  « to  make  an  eariy  offer  of  tlieir  subjection  " 
who  "  being  one  day  with  their  King  in  his  apartment, 
boastmg  of  their  loyalty  and  services,  he  called  for  wine 
and  applying  himself  to  the  Duke  of  York,  drank  to  the 
health  of  those  gentlemen,"  saying  "  that  he  was  now  even 
with  them,  having  as  he  thought  done  as  much  for  them  as 
they  had  done  for  him."     From  the  Hague,  where  cynicism 
might  be  expected  to  be  uppermost  in  the  King's  mind  he 
wrote  thus  to  his  sister  :  "  Je  vous  ^crivis  la  semaine  pass6, 
et  croyait  I'envoyer  dans  le  paquet  de  J^nton,  mais  elle 
avait  ferm^  le  sien,  de  sorte  que  j'^tais  contraint  de  donner 
ma  lettre  k  Mason.     J'ay  la  votre  du  28^  o^  j'ay  trouv6 
tant  de   marques  d'amiti6  que  je   ne   savais   trouver  de 
parolles  pour  exprimer  ma  joye.     En  recompense,  je  vous 
assure  que  je  vous  aime  autant  que  je  le  pais  faire,  et  que 
ny  rabsence,  ni   aucune  autre  chose,  puisse  jamais   me 
detourner  en  la  moindre  fagon  de  cette  amiti^  que  je  vous 
ay  promise,  et  n'ayez  point  peur  que  ceux  qui  sont  present 
auront  Tavantage  sur  vous,  car  croyez-moi,  I'amiti^  que  j'ay 
pour  vous  ne  pent  pas  estre  partaig^e.     J'ai  envoy^  k  Gen- 
tesau  de  me  faire  des  habits  pour  l'6st6,  et  ;e  luy  ay  donne 
ordre  de  vous  apporter  le  ruban,  afin  que  vous  choissiez  la 
garniture  et  les  plumes.    Je  vous  remercie  ])our  la  chanson 
que  vous  m'avez  envoy6 ;  je  ne  S9ay  pas  si  die  est  jolie,  car 
Janton  ne  la  sgait  pas  encore.     Si  vous  saviez  combien  de 
fois  nous  parions  de  vous,  et  vous  souhaitons  icy,  vous 
diriez  qu'on  souhaite  fort  de  vous  voir,  et  faites  moy  la 
justice  de  croire  que  je  suis  tout  k  vous.    C.  R.— Pour  ma 
ch6re,  ch6re  soeur." 

Charies  received  and  returned  the  visits  of  the  States- 
General  and  the  States  of  Holland,  and  on  16-26  May, 
he  received  the  committee  of   the   Engl  sh   Lords  and 


til 


I 


138 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


Commons.  The  money  that  Sir  John  Grenvile  brought  from 
England  so  delighted  the  King  that  he  called  his  brothers 
and  sister  to  look  at  the  gold  as  it  lay  in  the  portmanteau  ; 
and  his  joy  might  well  be  great,  since  the  best  clothes  worn 
by  him  and  his  courtiers  for  some  time  before  had  not  been 
worth  forty  shillings.     On  17-27  May,  the  King  wrote  to 
Monk :  "  I  need  say  little  to  you  since  I  have  informed 
Dr.  Thomas  Clarges  of  my  purpose,  and  he  will  tell  you 
with  what  difficulty  I  get  one  quarter  of  an  hour  to  myself. 
I  have  thought  the  best  I  can  of  the  place  where  I  should 
disembark,  and  have  heard  several  opinions  upon  it,  and 
upon  the  whole  matter  have  resolved,  God  willing,  to  land 
at  Dover,  and  to  stay  some  days  at   Canterbury  to  put 
things  into  as  good  order  as  I  can.     I  resolve,  if  it  please 
God,  to  embark  on  Monday,  or  Tuesday  at  the  furthest,  so 
that  you  will  be  able  to  judge  as  well  as  I  when  I  shall  be 
able  to  land.    But  you  can  hardly  imagine  the  impatience 
I  have  to  see  you,  for,  till  then,  I  shall  take  no  resolution 
of  moment.      I   pray   bring   Mrs.   Monk   with  you   and 
believe  me  to  be,  very  heartily,  your  affectionate  friend, 
Charles  R."     From  other  sources  we  get  glimpses  of  why 
it  had  been  so  hard  for  Charles  to  "  get  one  quarter  of  an 
hour  to  himself"  for  the  last  few  weeks.     Even  at  Breda,  he 
had  had  many  visitors ;  James  Sharpe  writes  from  Breda 
to  James  Wood  :   "  I  came  very  seasonably  to  his  Majesty 
at  Breda  upon  the  8  May  ...  I  wondered  to  heare  him 
speak  of  all  the  passages  as  to  persons  and  things  when  he 
was  in  Scotland  with  as  full  a  remembrance  and  exact 
knowledge  as  if  they  had  been  recently  acted,  and  he  had 
latly  come  from  thence  ;   he  is  indeed  a  most   excellent 
prince,  admirably  improven  by  his    long   afflictions,  .  .  . 
he  asked  kyndly  how  it  was  with  yow,"  as  with  others, 
"  and  also  with  others  whom  he  knew  .  .  ."     Pepys  went 
on  17  May  ^  to  kiss  the  King's  hand,  and  says :  "  The  King 

*  On  22  May  James  and  Henry  went  on  board  the  "  Naseby,"  the  one  in 
yellow  trimmings,  the  other  in  grey  and  red  :  they  viewed  the  ship  all  over 
and  dined  on  board.    (Pepys.) 


EMBARKATION   FOR  ENG]:.AND         139 

seems  to  be  a  very  sober  man  ;  and  a  very  splendid  Court 
he  hath  in  the  number  of  persons  of  quality  that  are  about 
him,  English  very  rich  in  habit.     From  t  le  King  to  the 
Lord  Chancellor,  who  did  lie  bed-rid  of  the  gout :  he  spoke 
very  merrily  to  the  child  and  me  ...  I  and  the  rest  went 
to  see  the  Queen  [of  Bohemia]  who  used  us  very  respect- 
fully ;  her  hand  we  all  kissed.    She  seems  a  very  debonaire, 
but  plain  lady."     Another  curious  visitor  to  the  Hague 
was  the  Presbyterian  minister  Mr.  Case,  who  was  allowed 
to   hear  and    see   Charles   in  apparently    fervent   prayer 
for  his  and  the  kingdom's  guidance  and  welfare,  which  of 
course  entirely  delighted  the  old  man  ;  but  presuming  later 
on  his  apparent  favour  with  the  King,  Charlos  told  him  that 
he  did  not  know  that  he  had  made  him  one  of  his  Council. 
"  There  was,  in  a  manner,  no  night  between  Tuesday  and 
Wednesday,  particularly  for  those  who,  finding  no  nook  or 
hole  to  put  their  heads — because  the  houses  were  not  able 
to  contain  the  people  who  flocked  thither  fiom  all  parts  of 
the  neighbouring  country, — for  the  most  part  were  con- 
strained to  walk  the  streets."     At  2  a.m.  i:he  drums  beat 
to  assemble  the  soldiers  and  citizens  ;  the  K'ing  rose  early  * 
to  receive  the  States  of  Holland.  A  procession  of  Dutch  and 
English  on  horseback  went  from  the  Hague  to  Schevening, 
Charles  riding  bareheaded  and  dressed  in  black  or  purple 
in  the  middle  of  the  three  foremost  horsemen.     The  King 
was  met  by  Montagu,   Stayner,  Crew,  and    others,   and 
greeted  Montagu  with  a  kiss,  and  entered  his  shallop  with 
all  his  relatives,  while  the  Royal  Standard  vas  hoisted,  and 
the  sailors  shouted  and  threw  their  caps  and  doublets  into 
the  air.     At  eleven  o'clock  the  royal  parly  boarded  the 
"  Naseby,"  newly  decked  with  silken  flags,  scarlet  coverings, 
and  the  like,  and  dined  in  the  coach.'  ^  After  dinner  the  King 
changed  the  names  of  the  ships  in  the  fleet,  as  that  of  the 
"  Naseby  "  to  the  "  Royal  Charles."  s  That  done,  the  Queen, 

*  And  dressed  in  a  plain-stufF  suit,  with  a  plume  of  red  feathers. 

*  For  the  whole  voyage,  etc.,  cf.  Dryden,  Astraa  Redux,  11.  216  sqg. 
'  Taken  by  the  Dutch  in  1667 ;  figurehead  still  in  Rotierdam. 


I40 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


FROM   DOVER   TO  CANTERBURY        141 


11(1 


|i 


Princess  Royal,  and  Prince  of  Orange  took  leave  of  the 
King,  and  the  Duke  of  York  went  on  board  the  "  London  " 
and  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  00  the  "  Swiftsure."  "  Which 
done,  we  weighed  anchor,  and  with  a  fresh  gale  and  most 
happy  weather  we  set  sail  for  England.  All  the  after- 
noon the  King  walked  here  and  there,  up  and  down  (quite 
contrary  to  what  I  thought  hira  to  have  been)  very  active 
and  stirring.  Upon  the  quarter-deck  he  fell  into  discourse 
of  his  escape  from  Worcester.'*  He  supped  alone  in  the 
coach.  On  the  way,  the  royal  fleet  came  to  Rotterdam, 
and  the  King's  ship  was  visited  by  the  Burgomaster,  amid 
salutes  of  gun,  the  whole  harbour  being  decorated  with 
English  colours.  Charles  stood  amidships  in  a  wig  and 
dark  clothes,  bareheaded,  to  receive  the  Burgomaster.  On 
the  25th,  being  close  to  land,  the  King  and  his  brothers 
ate  pease  and  pork  and  boiled  beef  for  breakfast ;  and 
before  disembarking,  Charles  measured  and  marked  his 
height  at  the  upper  end  of  the  coach-table. 

The  King  arrived  at  Dover  about  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,^  and  went  ashore  in  Lord  Sandwich's  barge  ;  on 
landing  he  fell  on  his  knees  and  thanked  God  for  his 
happy  restoration ;  he  was  then  received  by  Monk,  the 
Earl  of  Winchilsea,  and  other  nobles,  on  one  side  ;  and  on 
the  other  by  the  Mayor  and  Corporation  of  Dover,  bearing 
a  rich  canopy  ;  Monk  kneeled  on  one  knee  and  kissed  the 
King's  hand,  and  his  Majesty  embraced  him,  calling  him 
"Father."  The  Duke  of  York  kissed  the  General  re- 
peatedly, while  Henry  of  Gloucester  threw  his  cap  in  the 
air,  crying,  "  God  bless  General  Monk."  The  Mayor  then 
rendered  up  his  white  staff  of  office  to  the  King,  who 
returned  it,  receiving  next  a  very  rich  Bible,  v/hich  he 
took  and  said  it  was  the  thing  he  loved  above  all  things 
in  the  world.  After  standing  a  while  under  the  canopy 
and  talking  with   Monk    and  others  the    King  and   the 

'  **  In  a  slashed  doublet  then  he  came  ashore, 

And  dabbed  poor  Palmer's  wife  his  royal  whore." 

Marvell,  An  Histmical  Poem. 


Dukes  entered  a  coach.  Buckingham,  ' 
chillingly  received  by  the  King,  was  not  i 
the  royal  carriage  with  Monk,  but  neverth 
seat  in  the  boot.  When  the  King  left  the  co 
Down,  Buckingham  left  it  too,  and  rode  bar 
him,  as  his  Majesty  rode  to  the  head  of  eac 
of  horse  drawn  up  on  the  Down,  command" 
of  Oxford,  Derby,  and  others  :  the  Kentish 
present.  The  troops  were  placed,  three  de 
left,  and  bowing  to  him,  kissed  the  hilts  c 
and  then  flourished  these  above  their  heai 
acclamations  than  the  country  people  s 
about ;  and  the  trumpets  also  echoing  the 
suburb  at  Canterbury  stood  the  Mayor  ; 
receiving  the  King  with  loud  music,  and 
with  a  golden  cup  (or  bowl  full  of  gold 
Thence,  after  a  speech  by  the  Recorder,  Q\ 
Lord  Campden's  house,  the  Mayor  carry 
before  him.  In  Canterbury  the  King  stay* 
the  28th,  and  while  there,  knighted  Mon 
giving  the  former  the  Garter,^  and  sending 
Montagu.  Charles  also  found  time  to  writt 
letter  to  his  sister,  on  the  26th :  "  I  was 
with  business  at  the  Hague,  that  I  could  n 
before  my  departure,  but  I  left  orders  with 
Princess  of  Orange  to  send  you  a  small  pre 
which  I  hope  you  will  soon  receive.  I  arr 
at  Dover,  when  I  found  Monk,  with  a  great 
nobility,  who  almost  overwhelmed  me  with 
joy  for  my  return.  My  head  is  so  dreadful!; 
the  acclamations  of  the  people,  and  the  \ 
businesse,  that  I  know  not  whether  I  am  w 
nonsense.     Therefore  pardon  me  if  I  say 


vho  had  been 
nvited  to  enter 
sless  secured  a 
ach  on  Barham 
sheaded  behind 
h  of  the  troops 
3d  by  the  Earls 
Foot  were  also 
ep,  on  Charles* 
f  their  swords, 
Is,  with  no  less 
houting    round 

same.  In  the 
md  Aldermen, 
presenting  him 
)  worth  ;^250. 
arles  passed  to 
ing  the  sword 
xi  till  Monday 
k  and   Morice, 

it  to  Admiral 
;  the  following 

so  tormented 
Dt  write  to  you 

my  sister  the 
sent  2  from  me, 
ived  yesterday 
number  of  the 
kindnesse  and 
T  stunned  with 
ast  amount  of 
riting  sense  or 
no  more  than 


*  James  of  York  put  the  George  on  Monk,  and  Henr^  of  Gloucester  the 
Garter.    (Ludlow.) 

*  The  present  was  a  side-saddle  with  trappings  of  green  'clvet,  embroidered, 
tnd  trimmed  with  gold  lax:e. 


n 


m 


11  HI 


\i 


4 

III 

III! 


il 


(1 


' 


il 


142 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


that  I  am  entirely  yours.     For  my  dear  sister."    On  the 
Sunday,  the  King  attended  service  in  the  Cathedral. 

On  Monday,  his  Majesty  came  to  Rochester,  "  where 
the  people  had  hung  up,  over  the  midst  of  the  streets,  as 
he  rode,  many  beautiful  garlands,  curiously  made  up  with 
costly  scarves  and  ribbons,  decked  with  spoons  and 
bodkins  of  silver,  and  small  plate  of  several  sorts ;  and 
some  with  gold  chains,  in  like  sort  as  at  Canterbury  ;  each 
striving  to  outdo  the  other  in  all  expressions  of  joy."  He 
slept  the  night  in  the  house  of  Colonel  Gibbons,  to  please 
the  army.  On  Tuesday,  the  29th,  the  King  left  Rochester 
in  his  coach,^  and  took  horse  on  the  further  side  of 
Blackheath,  where  he  was  greeted  by  more  troops  of  horse 
and  by  a  morris  dance  with  pipe  and  tabor  by  the  swains. 
The  troops,  including  the  King's  Own  Life  Guards, 
marched  before  him  towards  London.  Major-General 
Brown,  with  a  troop  of  young  men  in  silver  waistcoats, 
went  first :  and  on  the  King's  right  hand,  passing  through 
Deptford,  were  "  above  an  hundred  proper  maids,  clad  all 
alike  in  white  garments,  with  scarves  about  them  ;  who 
having  prepared  many  flaskets  covered  with  fine  linen,  and 
adorned  with  rich  scarves  and  ribbons,  which  flaskets  were 
full  of  flowers  and  sweet  herbs,  strewed  the  waj^  before 
him  as  he  rode."  All  the  country  gentlewomen,  as  the 
King  passed,  held  up  their  heads  boldly  to  be  kissed, 
instead  of  pressing  a  courtly  kiss  upon  his  Majesty^s  hand. 
**  From  thence  passing  on  he  came  into  St.  George's  Fields 
in  Southwark,  where  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Aldermen  of 
London  in  their  scarlet,  with  the  Recorder  and  other  City 
Council,  waited  for  him  in  a  tent  hung  with  tapestry ;  in 
which  they  had  placed  a  chair  of  state,  with  a  rich  canopy 
over  it.  When  he  came  thither  the  Lord  Mayor  presented 
him  with  the  City  sword,  and  the  Recorder  made  a  speech 
to  him  ;  which  being  done,  he  alighted  and  went  into  the 

'  Many  knights  were  made  on  this  journey,  and  bonfires  were  to  be  seen 
in  great  numbers  on  the  road ;  the  inconstant  multitude  burning  the  badges  of 
their  freedom,  the  arms  of  the  Commonwealth."    (Ludlow.) 


m 


RESTORATION  PROCESSION  143 

tent,  where  a  noble  banquet  was  prepared  f  )r  him.     From 
this  tent  the  proceeding  was  thus  ordered,  viz.  first  the 
City  Marshal,  to  follow  in  the  rear  of  his  Majesty's  Life 
Guards.     Next  the  Sheriffs  Trumpets.    Thjn  the  Sheriffs 
men    in   scarlet   cloaks,   laced  with   silver  on  the  capes 
carrying  javelins   in  their  hands.     Then  civers   eminent 
citizens  well  mounted,  all  in  black  velvet  coats,  and  chains 
of  gold  about  their  necks,i  and  every  one  his  footman,  with 
suit,  cassock,  and  ribbons  of  the  colour  of  his  company ; 
all  which  were  made  choice  of  out  of  the  several  Com- 
panies in  this  famous  City  and  so  distinguished  :  and  at  the 
head  of  each  distinction   the  ensign  of   that  company 
After  these  followed  the  City  Council,  by  two  and  two, 
near  the  Aldermen  ;   then  certain  Noblemen  and  Noble^ 
men's  sons,  then  the  King's  trumpets.     The  1  the  Heralds- 
at-Arms.     After  them  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.     Then 
the  Earl  of  Lindsey,  Lord  High  Chamberlaia  of  England  ; 
and   the    Lord   General    Monk.      Next   to   them  Garter 
Principal  King  of  arms  ;  the  Lord  Mayor  on  his  right  hand 
bearing  the  City  sword,  and  a  Gentleman  Usher  on  his 
left:  and   on   each  side  of  them  the  Serg3ants.at-Arms 
vvrith  their  maces.    Then  the  King's  Majesty  in  a  dark  cloth 
suit  with  his  equerries  and  footmen  on  each  side  of  him  ; 
and  at  a  little  distance  on  each  hand  his  royil  brothers,  the 
Dukes  of  York  and  Gloucester :  and  after  them  divers  of 
the  King's  servants  who  came  with  him  from  beyond  sea. 
And  in  the  rear  of  all,  those  gallant  troops  ;  as  also  five 
regiments  of  horse  belonging  to  the  army.    In  this  fashion, 
his   Majesty  entered   the   Borough  of  Southwark,  about 
half-past  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon ;  and  within  an 
hour  after,  the  City  of  London,  at  the  Bridge:  where  he 
found  the  windows  and  streets  exceedingly   thronged  with 
people  to  behold  him,  and  the  wall  adorned  with  hangings 
and  carpets   of  tapestry  and  other  costly  stuff;  and  in 
many  places  sets  of  loud  music ;  all  the  conduits  as  he 
passed  running  claret  wine,  and  the  several  Companies  in 

»  "  Not  improperly  "  is  Ludlow  the  RepubUcan's  causlic  commenU 


.'i'JSifjuHL 


it 


III 


i 


I 


144 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


their  liveries,  with  the  ensigns  belonging  to  them  ;  as  also 
the  trained  bands  of  the  city  standing  along  the  streets  as 
he  passed,  welcoming  him  with  loyal  acclamations."  "  At 
Paul's  School  door  the  ministers  of  London  presented  him 
with  a  Bible.  He  thanked  them  for  it,  and  told  them  to 
this  effect :  *  That  the  greatest  part  of  that  day's  solemnity 
he  must  ascribe  to  God's  Providence,  and  that  he  would 
make  that  book  the  rule  of  his  life  and  government,'  and 
desired  Dr.  Reynolds  to  bring  the  Bible  to  him  at  White- 
hall. .  .  .  When  he  came  into  PauPs  Churchyard  and  he 
cast  his  eye  upon  the  church  and  pointed  to  the  Duke  of 
York,"  but  his  words  were  lost  in  the  cheering. 

As  the  cavalcade  passed  the  "  King's  Head  "  Tavern, 
in  the  Poultry,  the  King's  notice  was  drawn  to  the  balcony 
where  the  landlady  was  seated.  She  was  about  to  present 
his  Majesty  with  a  new  subject,  and  was  extremely  anxious 
to  be  honoured  by  some  personal  attention  from  the  King. 
When  this  was  made  known  to  him,  he  immediately  rode 
up,  kissed  the  fair  hostess,  amid  vociferous  cheering.  "And 
within  the  rails  where  Charing  Cross  formerly  was,  a  stand 
of  six  hundred  pikes,  consisting  of  knights  and  gentlemen, 
as  had  been  officers  in  the  armies  of  his  late  Majesty ;  Sir 
John  Stowell,  Knight  of  the  Honourable  Order  of  the  Bath, 
being  in  the  head  of  them.  From  which  place,  the  citizens 
in  velvet  coats  and  gold  chains  being  drawn  up  on  each 
hand,  and  divers  companies  of  foot  soldiers,  his  Majesty 
passed  betwixt  them,  and  entered  Whitehall  at  seven 
o'clock^:  the  people  making  loud  shouts,  and  the  horse 
and  foot  several  volleys  of  shots,  at  this  his  happy  arrival. 
Where  the  House  of  Lords  and  Commons  received  him, 
and  kissed  his  hand."  "His  answer  to  them  was  short, 
by  reason,  as  he  said,  of  his  present  discomposure  caused 
by  the  great  acclamations  he  had  received  in  his  passage, 
which  yet  he  pretended  had  been  very  agreeable  to 
him,  as  they  were  expressions  of  the   affections  of  his 

*  Nine  o'clock,  according  to  Eveljm,  though  he  perhaps  rather  refers  to 
the  last  of  the  procession,  than  to  the  Iling  individually. 


It  i  If 

'Ml 


COUNTRY   REJOICINGS  145 

people."  These  last  phrases  are  those  oj'  Ludlow  the 
stern  Republican,  and  his  next  words  perhaps  form  a 
fitting  ending  to  a  description  of  the  day's  proceedings : 
*'  the  dissolution  and  drunkenness  ^  of  that  night  was  so 
great  and  scandalous,  in  a  nation  which  lad  not  been 
acquainted  with  such  disorders  for  many  years  past,^  that 
the  King,  who  still  stood  in  need  of  the  PresDyterian*  party 
which  had  betray'd  all  into  his  hands,  for  the  ir  satisfaction 
caused  a  proclamation  to  be  publish'd,  forbidding  the 
drinking  of  healths.  But  resolving,  for  his  own  part  to 
be  oblig'd  to  no  rule  of  any  kind,  he  publicky  violated 'his 
own  order  in  a  few  days,  at  a  debauch  in  the  Mulberry 
Garden  ;  and  more  privately  at  another  meeting  in  the 
City,  where  he  drank  healths  to  the  utmost  excess  till  two 
in  the  morning."  ^  The  King  himself,  this  night  of  the 
completion  of  his  restoration,  slept  in  the  anas  of  Barbara 
Palmer,  either  in  his  palace  of  Whitehall,  o-  in  the  house 
of  Sir  Samuel  Morland,  the  double-dyed  traitor  and  spy. 

We  have  many  records  of  the  joyous  celebrations  of 
the  Restoration  in  the  country  places :  and  among  them 
the  following  are  not  the  least  interesting:  "Such  universall 
acclamations  of  witte  and  sober  joy  I  never  yet  saw 
we  had  our  Bonfire  too  and  Bells  ringing  evc^n  at  Clay  don 
.  .  •  Heaven  and  earth  seem  to  conspire  to  mjke a  faire  and 
fruitfull  springe  of  plenty  and  joy  to  this  poore  kingdome  ; 
the  seasonableness  of  which  mercy  now  the  general  face 
of  Christendom  seems  to  look  peaceable,  ad.s  much  to  our 
present  happines.  The  fields  and  pastures  begin  to  put 
on  their  best  dress  as  if  it  were  to  entertain e  his  Majesty 
in  Triumph  and  make  him  in  love  with  his  Native  soyle. 
.  .  .  Sure  in  the  Middest  of  all  our  rejoicings  it  will  be 
very  difficult  to  satisfy  ye  Expectations  of  men  and  for 

^^    »  It  is,  perhaps,  appropriate   that  a  tavern  should  soon  be  called  the 
^Restoration,"    and    another,   near    Charing    Cross,   the    "Pageant"    or 
"  Triumph,"  in  memory  of  the  arches  there  set  up.  * 

»  Unfortunately  a  misconception  of  the  worthy  Major-G<  neral's. 

*  The  Household  Books  of  Sir  Miles  Stapleton  of  Carltcn,  contain  entries 
of  expenses  for  bonfires  on  his  various  estates  at  this  time. 
L 


III! 


m 


'1 


146 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


Majesty  to  walk  so  evenly  as  not  to  give  offence  to  our 
formerly  dissenting  grandees;  ye  Lord  give  them  all 
wisdome  and  moderation."  And  again  :  "  Mr.  Abell  read 
the  King's  letter  and  declaration  to  his  neighbours  after 
church,  and  haveing  shewed  them  what  a  gratious  King 
they  had,  he  moves  them  to  see  what  they  would  do  for 
him,  and  to  begin  lays  downe  9/.  16s.  2d.  which  was  his 
owne  proportion  of  the  monthly  taxe,  and  soe  desires  the 
like  of  them  all  rich  and  poore  .  .  .  2$;^  was  gathered,  and 
to  Aylesbury  he  and  some  other  of  his  neighbours  carryed 
it,  where  they  would  have  payed  it  to  the  Treasurer,  but 
he  would  none  of  it,  as  having  no  order  to  receive  it ;  then 
at  the  Petty  Sessions  he  sends  to  the  Justices  to  acquaint 
them  of  the  money ;  they  made  themselves  merry  at  it, 
but  would  not  take  the  money.  So  I  heare  he  has  now 
come  up  to  London  it  may  be  to  meet  his  Majesty  and 
acquaint  him  with  his  doings,  for  he  told  his  neighbours 
the  King  should  know  of  their  forwardness."  Well  might 
Charles  say  laughingly:  "It  is  certainly  a  mistake  that  I 
did  not  come  back  sooner ;  for  I  have  not  met  any  one 
to-day  who  has  not  professed  to  have  always  desired  my 
return ; "  and  Clarendon  write  bitterly :  "  From  this  time 
there  was  such  an  emulation  and  impatience  in  the  Lords, 
Commons,  and  City,  and  generally  over  the  Kingdom, 
who  should  make  the  most  lively  demonstrations  of  their 
joy,  that  a  man  could  not  but  wonder  where  those  people 
dwelt  who  had  done  all  the  mischief  and  kept  the  King  so 
many  years  from  enjoying  the  comfort  and  support  of 
such  excellent  subjects." 


CHARLES  II 

FROM    THB    ...XTIXC.    HV    ...v    HEALK    .K    THE    XATI  >KM.    POKTKA.T   CA.XEKV 


},'• 


I 


CHAPTER  V 
THE   RESTORATION— AND  AFTER 

"  Quod  optanti  Divom  nemo  promittere  auden  t, 
Volvenda  dies,  en,  attulit  ultro." 
Motto  prefixed  to  Cowley's  Ode  on  his  Majesty's  Restauration  and  Return.^ 

The  King's  personal  appearance  and  qualities— His  accomplish- 
ments and  learning— Charles  as  author— His  dojjs— Newcastle's 
advice  to  the  restored  King— Monk— Charles  at  the  Council-table— 
Tlie  Regicides'  fate— Act  of  indemnity— The  Convention  Parliament 
—The  Cavalier  Parliament  and  religion— The  Aruy— Finance- 
Charles  and  his  divines— Growth  of  scientific  spirit— Charles  as  scientist 
—Touching  for  the  King's  Evil— Superstitions— The  king's  Marriage 
— Katherine  of  Braganza— Court  amusements— Tun  Dridge  Wells— 
"Flatfoot,  the  Gudgeon-taker  "—Second  Dutch  War -The  Plague— 
The  Fire. 

HE  poems  on  the  Restoration  we*e  of  course 
innumerable,  and  for  the  most  pat  set  to  the 
same  strain  of  adulation.  Like  mcst  Royalists, 
Dryden  compared  Charles  in  exile  to  David  in  a  similar 
state,  and  this  adds  point  to  Marvell's  lines  on  the  Restora- 
tion quoted  at  head  of  Chapter  IV. 

Waller  expresses  himself  very  neatly  on  the  King's 
side :  ^ 

"  Rude  Indians,  torturing  all  the  royal  race, 
Him  with  the  throne  and  dear-bought  sceptre  j^race 
That  suffers  best.    What  region  could  be  found, 
Where  your  heroic  head  had  not  been  crowned  ?" 

»  Cf.  Dryden's  Astraa  Redux;  Waller's  To  the  KingufKm  HU  Majesty s 
ha^iy  Return  :  and  Marvell's  pungent  satire,  An  HistoHcal  loem.  Before  aU 
these  gentlemen,  however,  came  Mr.  R.  Wilde,  on  23  May  1660,  with  his 
lUr  BoreaUy  celebrating  the  march  of  Monk  from  Scotland  to  London,  and  all 
the  blessings  it  had  wrought. 

'  In  the  poem  mentioned  above. 


IK 


in 


148 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


!i 


ill 


But  when,  later  in  the  same  poem,  he  says : 
"  Faith,  law,  and  piety  (that  banished  train), 
Justice  and  truth,  with  you  return  again," 

it  seems  right  to  test  these  remarks  by  a  review  of  the 
reign  of  this  king  "after  God's  own  heart." 

In  April  of  the  Restoration  year,  His  Sacred  Majesty 
appeared  to  one  of  his  faithful  servants  to  be  a  man  of  this 
fashion :  "  He  is  somewhat  taller  than  the  middle  stature 
of  Englishmen,^  and  so  exactly  form'd,  that  the  most 
curious  Eye  cannot  find  one  error  in  his  Shape.  His  Face 
is  rather  grave  than  Severe,  which  is  very  much  softened 
whensoever  he  speaks.  His  complexion  is  somewhat  dark, 
but  much  enlightened  by  his  eyes,  which  are  quick  and 
sparkling.  Until  he  was  near  twenty  years  of  age,  the 
figure  of  his  face  was  very  lovely  ,  but  he  is  since  grown 
leaner,  and  now  the  Majesty  of  his  countenance  supplies 
the  lines  of  beauty.  His  Haire,  which  he  hath  in  great 
plenty,  is  of  a  shining  black,^  not  frizled,  but  so  naturally 
curling  into  great  rings,  that  it  is  a  very  comely  ornament. 
His  Motions  are  so  easie  and  graceful,  that  they  do  very 
much  commend  his  person  when  he  either  Walks,  Dances, 
plays  at  Pal-Maile,  at  Tennis,  or  rides  the  Great  Horse, 
which  are  his  usual  exercises.  ...  To  the  gracefulness  of 
his  deportment  may  be  join'd  his  easiness  of  access,  his 
Patience  in  attention,  and  the  Gentlenesse  both  in  the 
tone  and  style  of  his  speech.  .  .  .  Amongst  his  acquired 
endowments,  these  are  the  most  eminent :  he  understands 

*  Evelyn  says  he  was  five  feet  ten  inches  in  height.  The  Parliament  set 
the  price  on  the  head  of  a  man  "above  two  yards  high"  after  the  Battle  of 
Worcester. 

*  He  b^an  to  go  grey  soon  after  the  Restoration.  Cf.  Pepys,  2  November, 
1663.  **  I  heard  the  Duke  say  he  waj.  going  to  wear  a  periwig  ;  and  they  say 
the  K.  also  will.  I  never  till  to-da>  observed  that  the  K.  is  mighty  gray. 
The  King  once  said  :  *  Pray,  what  is  the  reason  that  we  never  see  a  rogue  in  a 
play,  but,  odds  fish  !  they  always  clap  him  on  a  black  periwig,  when  it  is  well 
known  one  of  the  greatest  rogues  in  England  always  wears  a  fair  one  ? "  The 
allusion  was  either  to  Gates  or  Sh;iftesbury,  and  the  story  was  told  by 
Bcttcrton  the  actor  to  Gibber,  who  prints  it  in  his  Apology ^  ed.  1760,  p.  in, 
whence  Cunningham  reprints  it,  p.  118. 


THE   KING'S   QUALITIES  149 

Spanish  and  Italian,^  speaks  and  writes  French  correctly ; 
he  is  well  vers'd  in  ancient  and  modern  History,  hath  read 
divers  of  the  choicest  pieces  of  the  Politick,  hath  studied 
some  useful  parts  of  the  Mathematicks,^  as  Fortification, 
and  the  knowledge  of  the  Globes  ;  but  his  chief  delight  is 
in  Navigation,  etc."    Tuke  afterwards  speaks  of  the  King's 
chastity,  sobriety,  clemency,  and  restraint  from  profanity 
and  the  like;  wherein  he  is  seconded  b}-  John  Dauncy. 
"  To  conclude,  he  is  the  pattern  of  Patience  and  Piety,  the 
most  Righteous  and  Justest  of  Kings ;  The  most  knowing 
and  experienced  of  Princes.     The  Holie.<;t  and  the  Best 
of  Men.     The  severest  punisher  of  vice  ;  and  the  Strictest 
Re  warder  of  Virtue.   The  constan  test  prese  rver  in  Religion. 
And  the  truest  lover  of  his  Subjects."     Eitber  Dauncy  was 
a  past  master  in  the  art  of  subtilizing  aid  emphasizing 
eulogy  by  capitals,  full  stops,  and  alliteration,  or  his  com- 
positor  was  a  humourist ;  in  any  case,  this  ercquisite  fantasy 
would  at  once  have  amused  and  annoyed  Charles,  who,  as 
he  had  a  sense  of  humour,  was  proportionately  impatient 
of  flattery.     Dr.  Creighton  dedicated  a  book  in  an  ex- 
travagant style  to  the  king,  and  Hyde  wrote  to  him  as 
follows :  "...  In  the  next  place  you  must  remember  that 
though   our  Master  hath   taken   great  paines,  and  with 
excellent  success,  in  the  modern   langua|:es,  yet  in  the 
Latin  he  is  too  unskilful,  by  the  inexcusable  negligence 
of  those  who  should  have  laid  the  foundation ;  so  that 


*  For  Spanish  we  have  the  evidence  of  Charles'  p 
business  in  Spain  ;  his  recommendation  of  the  play  of  1 
cannot  be  ")  in  1685  to  Crowne  the  dramatist,  with  the 
construct  another  on  the  same  lines,  which  led  to  ^;> 
remarks  on  his  Spanish  to  Clarendon,  (p.  172);  and  1 
perhaps  written  to  the  Chancellor  in  1664  :  "  As  you  are 
so  you  must  be  a  frinde"  [Charles'  usual  spelling]  "t 
Corbetti  is  going  to  Brusselles  to  fetch  me  some  things  of  I 
faltan  los  medios,  for  he  hath  had  nothing  of  me  since  he  c 
send  me  a  note  to  Mr.  Shaw  for  two  hundred  guilders,  I  m 
because  he  goes  in  the  morning  early." 

!  Burnett,  SuppL,  p.  49.     .« He  knows  the  inferior  ] 
matics,  but  not  the  demonstrative." 


rsonally  conducted 
Vo  puede  ser{=  "It 
recommendation  to 
Courtly  Nice;  his 
he  following  note, 
I  lover  of  musique, 
D  ver[t]uosos,  Sig' 
lis,  and  I  finde  that 
ame,  therefore  pray 
ast  have  it  to-night, 

)arts  of  the  mathe- 


iMI 


li 


ISO 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS  COURT 


I 


when  this  book  shall  be  presented  to  him,  there  is  no 
question  but  that  he  will  command  that  the  Epistle 
dedicatory  be  translated  for  him  into  English  ;  and  I  must 
tell  you  that  as  there  is  no  Prince  this  day  in  Europe  who 
deserves  greater  commendation,  so  his  modesty  is  so  pre- 
dominant over  all  his  virtues,  that  no  gentleman  is  sooner 
out  of  countenance  with  being  over-commended.  I  have 
not  in  my  lifetime  seen  him  more  displeased,  and  more 
angry,  than  in  some  few  encounters  of  that  kind,  and  I 
dare  swear  he  will  be  put  to  many  blushes  upon  the  reading 
of  your  Epistle,  and  wish  some  expressions  were  away. 
You  have  not,  nor  you  cannot  say  too  much  of  the  candour 
of  his  mind ;  of  the  justice  and  gentleness  of  his  nature ; 
of  his  affection  and  zeal  to  the  Protestant  religion  .  .  . 
but  I  beseech  you  allay  those  other  expressions  which  he 
will  believe  belong  not  to  him,  which  relate  to  his  conduct 
and  perfection  in  war,  and  to  such  extraordinary  ability, 
as  can  be  got  only  by  experience.  .  .  .  Above  all  I  beseech 
you  review  and  allay  those  two  hyperbolical  expressions 
of  the  modesty  and  severity  of  our  Court,  where,  God 
knows,  the  Fabricii  nor  the  Camilli  can  be  found ;  and 
these  encomiums  may  possibly  call  on  some  reproaches 
upon  us  which  we  do  as  little  deserve." 

It  was  not  till  the  end  of  Dryden's  life  that  literary 
men  began  at  all  to  depend  upon  a  reading  public,  rather 
than  individual  patrons,  for  support,  and  this,  added  to  the 
general  laxness  of  morals,  thoughts,  and  expression,  led 
to  incredibly  false  and  fulsome  dedications  both  in  England 
and  France,  a  few  of  Dryden's,  and  one  of  Moli^re's, 
standing  out  in  contrast.  Mrs.  Aphra  Behn's  dedication 
of  her  play,  the  "  Feigned  Courtezans,"  to  "  the  illustrious 
Madam  Ellen  Gwyn,"  may  serve  as  an  example :  "  Your 
permission  has  enlightened  me,  and  I  with  shame  look 
back  on  my  past  ignorance  which  suffered  me  not  to  pay 
an  adoration  long  since,  where  there  was  so  very  much 
due ;  yet  even  now,  though  secure  in  my  opinion,  I  make 
this  sacrifice  with  infinite  fear  and  trembling,  well  knowing 


^ 


■ 


JOHN    DKYDEN 

FROM    THE    PAINTINC.    I'.Y   SIK   (.ODFUEV    KNK..T.F.R    IN    THK    NATIONAL    K.KTRAIT   GALLERY 


CHARLES  AND   BOOKS 


i$i 


that  so  excellent  and  perfect  a  creature  as  yourself  differs 
only  from  the  divine  powers  in  this — the  offerings  made 
to  you  ought  to  be  worthy  of  you,  whilsl  they  accept  the 
will  alone.  Besides  all  the  charms,  and  attractions,  and 
powers  of  your  sex,  you  have  beauties  pe  culiar  to  yourself 
— an  eternal  sweetness,  youth,  and  air  which  never  dwelt 
in  any  face  but  yours.  You  never  appear  but  you  gladden 
the  hearts  of  all  that  have  the  happy  fortune  to  see  you, 
as  if  you  were  made  on  purpose  to  put  the  whole  world 
into  good  humour."  Again,  as  a  further  proof  of  the 
King's  common-sense  on  this  subject,  is  his  well-known 
remark  to  Riley  the  painter,  on  a  new  poitrait  of  himself: 
"  Is  that  like  me  ?  then,  odds  fish !  I  am  an  ugly  fellow." 

The  King  possessed  an  interest  in  literature,  and  con- 
siderable taste,  especially  in  the  drama,  and  was  ready 
to  appreciate  anything  humorously  and  wittily  written, 
even  if  it  told  against  himself.  He  expressed  great 
approbation  of  "  Hudibras,"  and  used  to  carry  a  copy  in  his 
pocket  His  favourite  song  was  that  fine  one  of  Shirley's 
beginning — 

"  The  glories  of  our  blood  and  state 
Are  shadows,  not  substantial  things.'* 

He  read  Marvell's  "Rehearsal  Transposed,"  a  book  little 
likely  to  please  him  from  some  points  of  view,  though  its 
humour  proved  its  adequate  apology;  aad  he  interfered 
when  L'Estrange  the  licenser  wished  to  prohibit  the  second 
edition  of  the  First  Part  of  that  work.  H  5  is  said  to  have 
suggested  the  plan  of  the  "  Medal "  to  Dryden,  in  i68i,i  and 
the  character  of  Antonio-Shaftesbury  in  "  V  5nice  Preserved," 
and  we  possess  a  song  of  his  own  composition,  as  follows : — 

"  I  pass  all  my  hours  in  a  shady  old  grove, 
But  I  live  not  the  day  when  I  see  not  my  ]  ove  5 
I  survey  every  walk  now  my  Phillis  is  gon  2, 
And  sigh  when  I  think  we  were  there  all  alone  ; 
O  then,  'tis  O  then,  that  I  think  there's  no  hell 
Like  loving,  like  loving  too  well. 

*  Cf.  p.  238.    David  Lloyd  mentions  "several  majestic  poems"  written 
by  Charles  in  his  youth. 


'  i\ 


ii 


152  CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 

"  But  each  shade  and  each  conscious  bow'r  when  I  find, 
Where  I  once  have  been  happy,  and  she  has  been  kind, 
When  I  see  the  print  left  of  her  shape  on  the  green, 
And  imagine  the  pleasure  may  yet  come  again  ; 
O  then  'tis  I  think  that  no  joys  are  above 
The  pleasures  of  love. 

"  While  alone  to  myself  I  repeat  all  her  charms, 
She  I  love  may  be  lock'd  in  another  man's  arms, 
She  may  laugh  at  my  cares,  and  so  false  she  may  be, 
To  say  all  the  kind  things  she  before  said  to  me  ; 

0  then,  'tis  O  then,  that  I  think  there's  no  hell 

Like  loving  too  well. 

"  But  when  I  consider  the  truth  of  her  heart, 
Such  an  innocent  passion,  so  kind  without  art ; 

1  fear  I  have  wronged  her,  and  hope  she  may  be 
So  full  of  true  love  to  be  jealous  of  me  ; 

And  then  'tis  I  think  no  joys  are  above 
The  pleasures  of  love." 

Burnet  says  that  the  King  *'is  very  little  conversant  in 
books,  and,  young  and  old,  he  could  never  apply  himself 
to  literature."  But,  we  may  ask,  are  kings  usually 
possessed  of  enough  leisure  to  study  literature  profoundly  ? 
— and  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  good  Bishop  meant 
by  "literature"  more  weighty  things  than  plays  and 
poems  ;  Charles  at  least  knew  a  good  deal  about  plays, 
often  gave  advice  to  actors,  once  spoke  an  epilogue  him- 
self, and  we  know  that  he  read  Tom  Killigrew's  plays  at 
least.  The  King's  usual  time  for  reading  was  in  the 
morning,  while  his  barber  attended  him,  and  he  sat  by  the 
window  being  shaved  or  combed.  On  one  such  occasion, 
he  was  reading  Killigrew's  plays,  and  that  gentleman  was 
in  attendance  as  Groom  of  the  Bedchamber.  Charles 
asked  him,  "  What  account  will  you  give  at  the  day  of 
Judgement  of  all  the  idle  words  in  this  book?"  "Why 
truly,  I  shall  give  a  better  account  of  all  the  idle  words  in 
that  book,  than  your  Majesty  shall  do  of  all  your  idle 
promises,  and  more  idle  patents,  which  have  undone  many, 
but  my  idle  words  in  this  book  have  undone  no  person." 


TOM   KILLIGREW 


153 


On  another  occasion,  Tom  Killigrew  told  tie  King,  "  There 
is  a  good  honest,  able  man  that  I  coud  name,  that  if 
your  Majesty  would  employ,  and  command  to  see  all 
things  well  executed,  all  things  would  soon  be  mended ; 
and  this  is  one  Charles  Stuart,  who  now  spends  his  time 
employing  his  lips  about  the  Court,  and  hath  no  other 
employment ;  but  if  you  would  give  him  this  employment, 
he  were  the  fittest  man  in  the  world  to  perform  it." 
Again,  when  the  King,  alluding  to  his  brDther's  uxorious- 
ness,  said  he  would  go  about  no  longei  with  that  Tom 
Otter  1  and  his  wife,  Killigrew  asked  him  whether  it  was 
better  for  a  man  to  be  a  Tom  Otter  to  his  wife  or  to  his 
mistress  ?  Another  morning  as  the  King  w  as  being  shaved, 
his  barber  said  to  him  :  "  I  think  none  of  your  Majesty's 
officers  hath  a  greater  trust  than  I."  "Oh,"  said  the  King, 
"how  so,  friend?"  "Why,  I  could  cut  your  Majesty's 
throat  when  I  would."  "  Od's  fish ! "  said  Charles,  starting  up, 
"  that  very  thought  is  treason  ;  thou  shalt  shave  me  no  more ; " 
and  the  man  was  dismissed.  Waller  bailee  the  Restoration 
as  a  specially  favourable  event  for  the  poe:s,  since 

"  Kind  Heaven  at  once  has,  in  your  per; .on,  sent 
Their  sacred  judge,  their  guard,  and  argument." 

Dryden  in  the  "  Threnodia  Augustalis  "  qudifies  his  remarks 
on  this  subject  very  cleverly,  and  in  a  letter  to  Laurence 
Hyde  in  1683,  says:  "'Tis  enough  for  one  age  to  have 
neglected  Mr.  Cowley,  and  starved  Mr.  Bt  tier."  The  only 
specimen  of  the  King's  prose  composilion,  other  than 
epistolary,  which  we  possess  is  of  doubnful  authenticity, 
but  has  a  distinctly  Carolean  ring  about  it:  "We  must 
call  upon  you  again  for  a  Black  Dog,  between  a  Grey- 
hound and  a  Spaniel,  no  white  about  him,  only  a  streak  on 
his  Brest,  and  Tayl  a  little  bobbed.  It  is  his  Majesties 
own  Dog,  and  would  never  forsake  his  blaster.  Whoso- 
ever findes  him  may  acquaint  any  at  V^hitehal,  for  the 
Dog  was  better  known  at  Court  than  those  who  stole  him. 

*  The  henpecked  husband  in  Jonson's  Si/tm  Woman, 


154 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


Will  they  never  leave  robbin^j  his  Majesty  ?  must  he  not 
keep  a  Dog?  This  Dog's  place  (tho'  better  than  some 
imagine),  is  the  only  place  which  nobody  offers  to  beg." 
Later  his  Majesty  inquires  at  different  times  for  "a  little 
brindled  greyhound  bitch,  having  her  two  hinder  feet 
white ;**  "a  white-haired  spaniel,  smooth-coated,  with 
large  red  or  yelowish  spots ; "  and  "  a  black  mastiff  dog, 
with  cropped  ears  and  cut  tail."  The  King  frequently 
brought  his  dogs  to  the  council-table,  and  played  with 
them  there,  instead  of  attending  to  business,  which  Pepys 
calls  "  siliness."  So  Prince  Rupert's  black  retriever  (or 
poodle?)  Boye,  used  to  attend  his  master  everywhere, 
including  council ;  he  was  at  last  killed  at  Marston  Moor, 
to  the  indecent  joy  of  the  Rebels,  who  had  regarded  him 
as  a  familiar  spirit.  A  fondness  for  dogs  was  a  Stuart 
characteristic  :  early  pictures  of  the  children  of  Charles  I, 
and  several  portraits  of  Madame,  introduce  favourite  dogs, 
while  Charles  II  of  course  gave  his  name  to  a  breed  of 
which  he  was  especially  fond.  Evelyn  remarks  on  the 
inconveniences  attendant  on  the  King's  suffering  his  dogs 
everywhere  at  Whitehall ;  and  the  King's  fondness  for 
these  animals,  caused  them  to  be  very  fashionable  among 
the  Court  ladies.  On  one  occasion,  Charles  was  entering 
Salisbury  in  his  coach,  and  a  suitor  came  up  and  spoke  to 
the  King,  keeping  his  hand  on  the  coach-door,  in  spite  of 
his  Majesty's  warning  that  he  would  be  bitten  by  one 
of  the  spaniels  within ;  this  is  exactly  what  happened, 
causing  the  honest  Cavalier  to  cry  out,  "God  bless  your 
Majesty,  but  God  damn  your  dogs." 

Concerning  the  other  items  in  Tuke's  description  of 
the  King  we  will  speak  as  occasion  offers,  only  adding  to 
the  account  of  his  person  that  he  had  a  thin  line  of  black 
moustache,  and  a  great  "  thorough-bass "  voice.  The 
Marquis  of  Newcastle  favoured  his  old  pupil  with  another 
long  letter  of  advice  on  general  government,  from  which 
we  will  make  some  quotations:  .  .  .  "King  James  and 
King  Charles  always  about  Michaelmas  went  to  Royston 


HOW   TO  GOVERN 


155 


in  stable  time,  both  for  hunting  and  hawking,  both  at  the 
field  and  at  the  river — this  would  not  oaly  refresh  your 
M*'*  with   the  sweet  ayre  and  wholesome  exercise,  but 
unbende  your  more  serious  thoughts  from  the  wayght  of 
businesse  that  you  would  have  in  London.  .  .  .  This,  Sir, 
will  mentayne  healthy  and  long  life  better  than  physicke 
.  .  .  you  should  prepare  Masks  for  Twelfth  Tide,  at  which 
Etalianes  make  the  sceanes  best.  .  .  .  Invite   every  one 
by  tickets   from   the  Lord  Chamberlayn<i  .  .  .  the   Lord 
Chamberlayne  to  be  very  carefull  that  none  else  enter  but 
those  who  are  invited.  .  .  .  The  second  time  the  play  is 
given,    the    Inns   of  Court    alone  should    be    asked,   the 
third  time,  the  Lord  Mayor,  Sheriffs,  and  Aldermen,  with 
the  principal  merchants  and  no  others, — a  handsome  ban- 
quet every  time,  and  your  Ma*»«  to  drink  their  welcome, 
which  would  infinitely  please  them."     Also  the  king  must 
give  balls  and  "  invite  the  young  ladies,  e  nd  give  them  a 
banquet  and  drink  their  welcome  with  tl  anks.  .  .  .  Ride 
your  horses  of  manege  twice  a  week,  whicii  will  encourage 
noblemen  to  do  the  like,  to  way te  of  you  and  make  matches 
with  your  noblemen,  so  many  a  side,  to  run  at  the  ringe, 
for  a  supper  or  a  playe,  or  some  little  Jewell ;  besides  this 
to  be  in  the  Tilt  Yard  publicly.     Upon   Coronation  Day 
there  should  be  tilting  and  other  horse  feats,  to  make  your 
Lords  good  horsemen  and  to  keepe  good  horses.    Your 
Ma**«'*  Father  of  blessed  memory  was  the  bast  man  at  arms 
I  vowe  to  God  that  I  ever  saw,  both  for  ^race  and  sure- 
nesse  .  .  .  copper-lace  is  very  cheap,  and  will  make  as 
good  a  show  for  one  day  as  the  beste ;  all  Queen  Eliza- 
beth's days  she  used  itt,  and  King,  James.  .  .  .  For  game- 
ing  serten  times  your  M'**  will  sett  down,^  as  also  for 
Tennis  and  palle  malle.     Goffe  ^  and  other  recreations  will 


*  The  King  sometimes  formally  opened  play  at  th.;  Groom-Porter's  by 
losing  his  ;^loo. 

*  Charles  certainly  played  this  game  in  Scotland  (see  p.  40),  and  as 
James  I  had  founded  the  Blackheath  Golf  Club,  it  is  quite  possible  that  he 
contiaued  to  do  so  in  England,  especially  as  he  coulc  both  walk  fast  and 


1 56 


CHARLES   II   AND    HIS   COURT 


MONK 


157 


l» 


it 

lili 


do  for  winter.  ..."  At  Lent  the  King  is  to  go  to 
Newmarket,  "  the  sweetest  place  in  the  world  and  the  best 
ajo-e — no  place  like  it  for  hunting,  hawking,  and  coursing, 
and  Horse  Races."  Charles  is  to  invite  "the  northern 
lords  and  gentry  that  hath  the  best  horses  and  hounds," 
and  to  hold  hound  races  "with  coloured  ribbons."  New- 
market is  especially  suitable  because  "while  there,  the 
University  will  entertain  you  and  send  most  excellent 
preachers  every  Sunday."  At  Easter  the  King  must  send 
venison  to  the  great  Lords,  or  rather,  great  Ladies,  "  for, 
as  Sir  E.  Coke  sayd,  the  night  crowe  was  powerful,  and 
the  gray  mare  is  the  better  horse  ...  the  great  study  and 
learning  for  kinges  is  not  to  read  bookes,  but  men.  ...  I 
should  humbly  advise  your  M^"  to  have  a  warre  with  one 
of  these  greate  kinges,  and  I  think  it  would  be  best  to 
begin  with  France.  When  that  is  over,  have  one  with 
Spayne,  and  by  sea  too  ;  the  French  will  give  you  money 
for  this.  .  .  .  Master  [London]  and  master  the  whole  King- 
dom, disarm  it  totally,  and  arm  yourself.  But  hide  your 
forces,  for  the  people  loves  not  the  cudgell.  .  .  .  Remember 
you  are  both  king  and  pope  .  .  .  that  which  hath  done 
most  hurte  is  the  abundance  of  Grammar  Schools  and 
Inns  of  Court  .  .  .  they  only  teach  boys  to  become  clerks 
instead  of  farm-labourers  and  mechanicks.  .  .  .  keep  a 
bounteous  table,  say  jf  80,000  a  year.  .  .  .  Your  Royal 
Father  always  wanted  money  .  .  .  Putt  money  in  your 
purse  and  keep  it,  and  avoid  Parliaments.  When  you  are 
rich,  and  call  a  Parliament,  your  Majesty  is  then  Master 
of  the  fielde." 

The  chief  man  for  a  little  while  after  the  Restoration 
was  of  course  General  Monk :  he  immediately  offered  the 
King  a  list  of  Privy  Councillors,  mostly  Presbyterians. 
Charles  chose  Monk  himself,  Morice,  and  Anthony  Ashley 

saunter  during  the  game.  James  of  York  frequently  played  it,  and  had  a  fore- 
caddie  to  mark  the  ball  dovm.  Jam<:s  also  played  tennis,  and  one  of  the 
earliest  portraits  of  him  shows  him  as  a  small  boy  playing  that  game  in  163-. 
(Strutt,  ed.  1905.) 


Cooper,  but  filled  the  other  places  with  old  cavaliers,  like 
Hyde,  Ormonde,  and  Nicholas.  Monk  was  created  Duke 
of  Albemarle,  and  continued  in  favour  till  his  death  in 
1670,  even  though  the  King  did  not,  perhaps,  esteem  him 
in  his  heart.  Pepys  considered  the  General  "a  dull  heavy 
man,"  and  continually  sneered  at  him  ;  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
Monk,  though  slow,  was  a  man  of  strong  common-sense, 
and  in  his  way,  steady  and  honourable  His  personal 
courage  was  great,  and  splendidly  shown  in  the  Second 
Dutch  War,  of  1665-67.  He  was  apparently  celebrated 
among  the  courtiers  for  his  rather  coarse  and  plebeian 
hospitality,  and  his  extraordinary  powers  of  drinking. 
Pepys  was  disgusted  at  the  slovenly  methods  of  table- 
service  in  his  house,  and  looked  down  upor.  his  wife,  whom 
at  various  times  he  calls  "a  plain  homey  dowdy,"  "an 
ill-looking,  ill-natured  woman,"  "a  slut  and  a  drudge." 
She  was  evidently  a  woman  of  sound  and  strongly- 
expressed  sense,  not  without  coarseness  due  to  her  origin 
and  breeding,  being  the  daughter  of  John  Clarges,  a  farrier 
in  the  Savoy  and  horseshoer  to  Colonel  Monk ;  she  first 
married  Thomas  Radford,  and  lived  at  the  sign  of  the 
"Three  Spanish  Gypsies"  in  the  New  Ex:hange;  selling 
wash-balls,  powder,  gloves,  and  the  like,  and  teaching  girls 
plain  work  :  she  became  Monk's  sempstress  and  laundress, 
then  his  mistress,  and  on  the  disappearance  of  her  husband 
in  1652,  his  wife.  On  Monk's  elevation  to  the  peerage,  she 
was  promptly  christened  "The  Monkey  Duchess,"  and 
Pepys  mentions  with  scorn  the  dedication  of  a  book  to  her 
as  a  paragon  of  virtue  and  beauty.  Of  l^Ionk's  superior 
sobriety  let  the  French  Ambassador,  M.  le  Comte  de 
Comminges,  speak :  "Mai  15,  1663.  ^  eit  arriv6  depuis 
trois  jours  une  affaire  assez  plaisante  en  cette  cour.  M.  le 
Comte  d'Oxford,  un  des  plus  qualifiez  Seig:neurs  d'Angle- 
terre.  Chevalier  de  la  Jarreti^re,  et  Mestre  du  Camp  du 
Regiment  de  la  Cavalrie  du  Roy,pria  ^dincjr  Genl.  Monck, 
le  grand  Chambellan  du  Royaume,  et  ([uelques  autres 
conseillers  d'Etat   A  ce  nombre  se  joignerent  tons   les 


I 


158  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

jeunes  gens  de  quality.  La  d^bauche  s*eschauffa  a  tel 
point  que  chacun  y  fut  offenseur  et  offensd  ;  Ton  se  gourma, 
Ton  s*arracha  les  cheveux,  et:  enfin  deux  de  la  troupe  se 
battirent  k  coups  de  I'ep^e..  Mais  heureusement  cette 
escarmouche  s^para  la  compagnie  ;  chacun  prit  son  parti 
selon  son  inclination  ;  ceux  qui  s'en  all^rent  avec  la  G^ 
demand^rent  a  boire,  on  lear  en  donna,  ils  pouss^rent 
r affaire  jusqu'au  soir,  cequi  les  obligea  de  demander  k 
manger,  estant  eschauffds  du  matin  et  de  Tapr^s-dinee, 
chacun  r^solut  de  porter  son  compagnon  par  terre.  Le  G^', 
qui  a  sans  doute  la  t^te  plus  forte,  fit  un  coup  de  maitre, 
en  leur  prdsentant  k  chacun  un  ^nap,  qui  tenait  beaucoup, 
les  uns  Taval^rent,  les  autres  ne  purent,  mais  gdn^ralement, 
tous  demeur^rent  jusqu'au  lendemain  sans  avoir  conversa- 
tion, quoiqu'en  m^me  chambre.  Le  seul  G^'  alia  au 
Parlement  comme  k  son  ordinaire,  et  n'en  perdit  ni  la 
jugement  ni  Tesprit.  Cela  a  fait  rire  la  compagnie,  et  n*a 
pass^  que  pour  un  emportement" 

For  the  first  few  months  of  his  reign,  Charles  displayed 
considerable  application  to  business;  though  numerous 
confidential  notes,  passed  across  the  council-table  to  Lord 
Chancellor  Clarendon,  show  frequent  straining  at  the 
leash,  and  also  cast  amusing  side-lights  upon  the  methods 
of  procedure  at  the  time.  Xing':  "  What  do  you  think  of 
my  Lord  Berklayes  being  deputy  of  Ireland,  if  we  can 
find  DO  better  ?  "  Chancellor  :  "  Do  you  thinke  you  shall 
be  ridd  of  him  by  it,  for  that  is  all  the  good  of  it  ? "  K.  : 
"  The  truth  of  it  is  the  being  ridd  of  him  doth  incline  me 
something  to  it,  but  when  you  have  thought  round,  you 
will  hardly  find  a  fitter  person."  .  .  .  -K". ;  "  I  have  been 
talking  with  the  Scots  L*^^-  about  the  businesse  of  that 
kingdome  and  they  finde  it  most  necessary  that  a  secretary 
be  named,  so  as  I  must  do  to-morrow  or  next  day."  Ch. : 
"  I  know  not  what  to  say  to  it,  but  I  am  sure  you  have  so 
many  thinges  to  thinke  of,  that  I  wonder  you  can  sleepe." 
.  .  .  Ch. ;  "  I  pray  be  pleased  to  give  an  Audyence  to  my 
Ld.  Broghall,  who  will  say  many  thges.  to  you  of  moment, 


COUNCIL  NOTES 


159 


and  I  thinke  with  duty  enough  ;  if  you  will  g-ive  him  leave  to 
attende  you  to  morrow  morning  at  8  of  tiie  clocke,  I  will 
give  him  notice  of  it."     K, :  "You  give  appointments  in  a 
morning  sooner  than  you  take  them  yours  elfe  ;  but  if  my 
Ld.  Braughall    will  come   at   9  he   shall   be  wellcome." 
Against   the    King's   remark   may   be    s<;t   the   facts   of 
Clarendon's  gout  and  Charles'  early  rising;  but  still  the 
continued  tutorial  manner  of  the  Chancelbr  became  more 
and  more  irksome  to  the  King,  and   contributed  not   a 
little   to  the  vexation    and    anger  which    culminated  in 
Clarendon's  fall.     The  King's  gradually  gTowing  distaste 
for  business  and  the  council-table  may  be  traced  in  the 
following  notes :  Ch, :  "  This  debate  is  worth  three  dinners, 
I  beseech  you  be  not  weary  of  it,  but  ati:end  it  with  all 
patience,  the  benefitt  that  will  follow,  is  greater  than  you 
yet  see."  .  .  .  ^. ;  "9  a  clock.     I  thinke  r:  will  be  neces- 
sary to  dispatch  S'-  J.  Coventry  back  again  as  soone  as  we 
can,  but  I  beleeve  Secretary  Morice  will  hardly  be  ready 
for  us  this  afternoone,  if  there  be  any  thinj^  for  me  to  do 
to  day  I  will  not  stirr,  else  I  would  take  some  aire  after 
this  raine,  lett  me  have  an  answer  of  this  presently,  do 
you  remember  that  I  am  to  say  something  to  both  houses 
on  Monday?     Send  it   me.     For  the   Chancelour."  .  .  . 
K. :  "  Will  not  you  be  heere  to-morrow  at  councell  about 
the  businesse  of  Ireland  ?     It  will  be  likewise  necessary 
for  you  to  meete  me  at  the  Gcnerall's  on  friday  before 
councell  about  the  businesse  of  Pottugal."    CA.  :  "  I  shall 
attende  you  in  both  places,  if  I  am  abk,  the  contrary 
whereof  I  do   not  suspecte ;  you  have  a  worid  of  other 
businesse  to,  which  must  be  settled  at  my  L^.  Treasurers." 
JC. :  "  When  can  we  meete  there  ?  "     CA. :  "  I  am  afrayd 
not  till  Sunday :  Will  you  putt  us  to  deliver  our  opinions 
in  this    matter  this   night:    it    will  take    much    tyme: 
my   L^    Dorchester   must   be   very   longe,   and    my   L*^- 
Anglesy  as  longe,  since  I  presume  they  \n\\  differ  both 
from  ther   learninge  they  last  published    n  this  place." 
AT. ;  "  If  those  two  learned  persons  could  be  sent  to  supper, 


I 


1 


I 


IP* 


i6o 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


we  might  despatch  it  now,  bat  by  my  L*'  of  Dorchester's 
face  I  feare  his  speech  will  be  long  which  will  be  better 
for  a  collation  than  a  supper." 

As  soon  as  possible,  the  army  was  paid  and  disbanded, 
the  regicides  put  to  death,  and  Argyll  executed  in  Scot- 
land.    It  was  due  to  the  firmness  and  wisdom  of  Charles 
and  Clarendon  that  only  the  regicides  suffered  :  the  King's 
natural  clemency  rebelled  against  even  these  executions, 
but  he  realized  that  the  multitude  in  its  reaction  must  be 
appeased  by  blood,  just  as  the  later  fury  of  the  Popish 
Plot   had    to   be    quenched    in   the    blood    of  Stafford 
and  Plunket.     In  July,  1661,  King  and  Chancellor  confer 
by  scribbled   notes  at  the  council-table,  on  the  subject  of 
executions.     "  What  is  to  be  wished,  should  be  done  in 
the  Bill  that  is    now  ordred  to    be   brought   in   for  the 
execution  of  those  ill  men  v^ho  are  condemned  ?  would  it 
not  be  better  that  the  Bill  should  sleep  in  the  Houses,  and 
not  be   brought  to  you?     Shall   I  speake  of  it   at  the 
boorde?"    K, :   "I  must  confesse   that  I   am   weary  of 
hanging  except  upon  new   offences."     Ck.:  "After  this 
businesse  is  settled,  shall  I  moove  it  here  ?    That  wee  may 
take  care   that    it   comes   not  to   you?"     K. :    "By  all 
meanes,  for  you  know  that  I  cannot  pardon  them."     The 
King  again  expresses  his  sentiments  on  such  matters  in  a 
letter  to  the  Earl  of  Middleton,  governor  in  Scotland: 
"Whitehall,  22  March,  i66o[i].    Middleton,  I  have  given 
yow  a  full  answer  to  yo'  letter,  yet  one  thing  I  must  adde, 
and  it  shall  be  to  yor  selfe  :  I  am  sorie  to  heare  from  so 
many  hands  That  a  strange  cours  is  taken  there  with  many 
of  those  who  were  appointed  to  be  cited  to  the  Parliament ; 
Privat  barganes  I  heare  are  driven,  money  receaved  from 
too  many  who  are  represented  to  have  been  abominable 
complyers.      I  shall  be  glade   that    this   be   not  so,   for 
althogh  I  should  have  been  apt  enough  to  have  pardnd 
such  as  had  been  offered  as  the  fittest  objects  of  mercie, 
and  althogh    I  was  willing   to   leave  those   things  very 
much  to  the  Parliament,  yet  I  did  ever  understand  that 


ACT  OF  INDEMNITY  161 

the  sole  power  of  pardoning  resides  in  m.j,  and  that  fines 
and  forfaultwres    are  wholly   at   my   disposal:  You  shall 
therfor  privately  informe  yo'self  if  any  such  strange  way 
be  taken  and  Let  it  be  stopt,  For  I  am  cleirly  of  opinion 
That   pardoning   and  punishing  is   to   be    caryed   above 
boord,  and  that  no  privat  bargains  are   :o  be  driven  to 
make  sale  of  my  grace  and  mercie.     Let  me  I  pray  yow 
have  ane  account  of  this."i     A  curious    letter  is  extant 
showing  how  Charles  acted  when  he  saw  a  very  real  danger 
involved  in  the  matter  :  "  Hamton  Courte,  S  iturday  [7  June 
1662]  two  in  the  afternoon.  The  relation  that  has  been  made 
to  me  of  Sir  H.  Vane's  carriage  yesterday  in  the  hall  is  the 
occasion  of  this  letter,  which,  if  I  am  rightlyr  informed  was 
so  msolent,  as  to  justyfy  all  he  had  done  ;  acknowledgeing 
no  supreame  power  in  England,  but  a  parliament ;  and  many 
thmgs  to  that  purpose.     You  have  had  a  fue  accounte  of 
all,  and  if  he  has  given  new  occasion  to  l^e  hanged,  cer- 
taynly  he  is  too  dangerous  a  man  to  lett  live,  if  we  can 
honestly  put  him  out  of  the  way.    Thinke  cf  this,  and  give 
me  some  accounte  of  it  to-morrow,  till  vi  hen  I  have  no 
more  to  say  to  you.     C." 

The  Cavaliers  said  that  the  Act  of  Indemnity  in  1660 
meant  Indemnity  for  the  King's  enemies  and  Oblivion 
for  his  friends  ;  but  the  Presbyterians  who  recalled  Charles 
must  be  satisfied  and  allowed  to  retain  lands  and  property 
bought  from  distressed  Cavaliers;  all  Cavaliers  whose 
lands  and  property  had  been  confiscated,  regained  what 
they  had  lost ;  Charles  never  forgot  person  il  services  and 
rarely  remembered  personal  injuries;  a  ad  lastly,  the 
number  of  claimants  for  his  bounty  was  so  great  that  he 
could  not  have  satisfied  them  all,  had  he  beetn  Crcesus,  and 
as  it  was,  Parliament  were  only  allowing  hi n  about  half  a 
million  for  all  expenses,  "a  sum  insufficent,  with  the 
strictest  economy,  for  the  ordinary  expen  jes  of  govern- 
ment."    Still  Charles  was  too  apt  to  promise  the  same  office 

Middleton  was  head  of  the  "Drunken  Administration  "  m  Scotland. 


V\ 


'\ 


w 


// 


1 62 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


III 


VI 


I  i 


H: 


to  two  different  people,  or  say  one  thing  to  one  man,  and 
the  opposite  to  another,  merely  in  order  to  be  pleasant.^ 
He  could  refuse  suits  when  there  appeared  to  be  any 
design  of  taking  undue  advantage,  or  the  like,  connected 
with  them ;  though  it  may  be  readily  admitted  that  he 
disliked  refusal  even  then,  and  an  impudent  importunity 
would  frequently  bore  him  to  the  point  of  concession.  A 
boon-companion  once  asked  him  for  an  important  favour, 
emboldened  by  the  King's  hilarity,  and  was  startled  by 
the  reply,  "  Sir,  you  must  ask  that  of  your  King."  To 
Lord  Keeper  Guildford,  Charles  made  a  shrewd  reply 
about  suitors :  "  It  is  very  strange  that  every  one  of  my 
friends  should  keep  a  tame  knave." 

The  Convention  Parliament  of  April-December,  1660, 
"settled  everything  except  religion,*'  which  therefore  re- 
mained for  the  Cavalier  Parliament  of  May,  1661-January, 
1679.  They  destroyed  Puritanism  as  a  definite  sect,  and 
abolished  the  standing  army.  A  standing  army  was  one 
of  the  features  in  the  King's  private  scheme  of  absolutism, 
and  a  feature  eventually  realized ;  he  increased  his  Life- 
Guards  and  Household  Troops  iat  every  possible  oppor- 
tunity and  excuse.  The  rising  of  the  Fifth-Monarchy 
Men  in  January,  1661,  the  acquisition  of  Tangier  and  the 
consequent  necessity  of  a  garrison,  in  1662,  and  the 
Farnely  Wood  Rising  in  Yorkshire,  1663-64,  provided 
such  excuses.  Charles  writes  to  Madame  on  10  December, 
1663  :  "  I  am  now  dispatching  the  judges  into  Yorkshire, 
to  try  those  rogues  that  had  the  late  plott,  and  I  beleeve  a 
good  many  of  them  will  be  hanged,  and,  to  prevent  all 
further  mischief  of  that  kinde,  I  am  in  deliberation  of 
raysing  two  regiments  of  horse  more  of  five  hunderd  men 

*  Council-Note  of  1660.  Ch,:  *'Is  not  my  L^'  Viscount  Hereford  L**' 
LL*-  for  Herefordshire  ? "  K, :  "  No,  for  I  find  by  most  of  the  Gentlemen  of 
that  county,  that  he  is  not  at  all  beloved  and  besides  I  thinke  the  man  herb 
John."  Ch.  :  "  Why  did  you  once  resolve  it  ?  which  he  knowes,  he  is  honest 
and  all  men  say  worth  the  cherishing.  My  L^'  of  Newcastle  complaynes  much 
that  you  neither  grante  nor  deny,  whj'  do  you  not  tell  him  what  you  resolve  to 
do,  and  the  reason  ?  " 


THE  ARMY 


163 


a  peece,  the  one  to  lye  in  the  North,  and  the  other  in  the 
West,  which  will,  I  doute  not,  for  the  future,  prevent  all 
plotting."     In  1683  the  King  "  augmented  his  guards  with 
a  new  set  of  dragoons,  who  carried  also   granados,  and 
were  habited  after  the  Polish  manner,  w  th  long  picked 
caps,  very  fierce  and  fantastical."     The  reg  iments  in  1669 
were  dressed  as  follows:  "The  first  or  King's  own  Regi- 
ment of  Infantry  have  a  white  flag,  with  a  led  cross  in  the 
middle  ;  all  in  red  coats,  turned  up  with  lig.ht  blue,  except 
the  pikemen,  who  have  a  silver  coat,  turned  up  with  light 
blue.     The  second  regiment,  or  that  of  the  L^-  General 
Monk,  have  a  green  standard  with  six  wh  te  balls  and  a 
red  cross;   red  jackets  with  green   facings,  pikemen   in 
green,  faced  with  red.     The  third  regiment  are  the  Earl  of 
Oxford^s  Cavalry.     The  first  company  of  bodyguards,  the 
King's  Own,  have  red  jackets  faced  with  b  ue,  gold-laced, 
and  white  feathers  in  their  hats.    The  second,  the  Duke 
of  York's,  have  red  jackets  and  blue  facing:;,  without  gold 
lace,  and  white  feathers   in  their  hats.     The  third,  the 
General's,  dress  like  the  second,  but  have  a  crimson  ribbon 
in  their  hats,  instead  of  a  feather." 

The  Crown  was  made  financially  depend  ent  on  Parlia- 
ment, and  as  they  were   not   always  amenable,  Charles 
resorted  to  many  devices  for  obtaining  money,  especially 
the  sale  of  his  policy  to  Parliament  or  Lot  is  XIV.    The 
Church  passed  into  Parliament's  hands,  and  Anglicanism 
again  reigned  supreme.     Every  attempt  on  the  part  of  the 
King  to  gain  toleration  for  Catholics  or  Dissenters  proved 
vain,  and  soon,  though  genuinely  a  friend  to  toleration, ' 
both  by  nature   and   because  he  saw  thai:   Catholicism' 
favoured  his  absolutist  schemes,  he  abandonee  any  attempts  * 
to  secure  it,  as  too  dangerous.     Only  in  individual  cases  of 
services  to  his  own  person,  did  he  endeavour  to  secure 
privileges  and  safety  to  Catholics.     His  clear-headedness 
on  this  point  contrasts  with  James'  blindness  ;  for  side  by 
side  with  Charles'  determination  to  be  absolute  monarch, 
ran  that  neither  to  share  the  fate  of  his  father  nor  bring' 


i 


III  > 

ti  i 


fli 


'i' 


164  CHARLES   II   AND    HIS   COURT 

about  for  himself  another  exile.    Walking  one  day  with 
Sir  Richard  Bulstrode  in  the  Park,  the  King  said :  "  that 
during  his  Exile  abroad,  he  had  seen  many  Countries,  of 
which  none  pleased  him  so  much  as  that  of  the  Flemings, 
who  were  the  most  honest  and  true-hearted  Race  of  People 
that  he  had  met  with;"    and  then   added,  "But  I  am 
weary  of  traveling,  I  am  resolved  to  go  abroad  no  more : 
But  when   I   am  dead  and  gone,   I  know  not  what   my 
Brother  will  do :  I  am  much  afraid,  that  when  he  comes  to 
the  Crown,  he  will  be  obliged  to  travel  again :  And  yet  I 
will  take  Care  to  leave  my  Kingdoms  to  him  in  Peace, 
wishing  he  may  long  keep  them  so.     But  this  hath  all  of 
my  Fears,  little  of  my  Hopes,  and  less  of  my  Reason  ; 
and  I  am  much  afraid,  that  when  my  Brother  comes  to 
the  Crown,  he  will  be  obliged  to  leave  his  native   Soil." 
As  for  the  King's  religion,  it  was   of  course  outwardly 
Anglican,  and  avowedly  tolerant ;  nor  is  it  probable  that 
he  actually  joined  the  Church  of  Rome  even  in  secret,  till 
his  death.     He  attended  service  in  the  Royal  Chapel  with 
some  regularity,  and  usually  chose  his  preachers  with  care 
and  regard  to  their  piety  and  eloquence,  though  he  scrupled 
not  to  fall  asleep  if  he  were  bored  by  their  sermons.     He 
objected  to  sermons  being  read,  and  asked   Dr.  Stilling- 
fleet,  "the  beauty  of  holiness,"  why  he  always  read  his 
sermons  before  him,  and  preached  extempore  elsewhere  ? 
The  Bishop  answered  that  it  was  because  the  awe  of  so 
noble  an  audience,  but  chiefly  he  seeing  before  him  so 
great  and  wise  a  prince,  made  him  afraid  to  trust  himself 
"  But  pray,  will  your  Majesty  give  me  leave  to  ask  a 
question  too  ?    AAThy  do  you  read  your  speeches  in  Parlia- 
ment, when  you  can  have  none  of  the  same  reasons?" 
"  Why,  truly.  Dr.,  your  question  is  a  very  pertinent  one, 
and  so  will  be  my  answer.     I  have  asked  them  so  often, 
and  for  so  much  money,  that  I  am  ashamed  to  look  them 
in  the  face."     Of  Barrow,  the  King  said  that  "  he  was  an 
unfair  preacher,"  because  of  the  length  and  excellence  of 
his  sermons.      Of   Dr.  Frampton    he  said:    "Tell  -Dr. 


SECTS 


165 


Frampton  that  I  am  not  angry  for  to  be  told  of  my  faults, 
but  I  would  have  it  done  in  a  gentleman-like  manner." 
The  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany  is  kind  enough  to  say  that 
English  ladies  used  to  write  abridgments  of  the  sermons, 
but  as  a  rule  the  contemporary  accounts  of  their  behaviour 
are  not  so  edifying.  The  King  had  £.  private  oratory 
when  he  went  not  in  public  to  the  chapel,  where  he  saw 
the  maids  of  honour  and  other  young  persons  laugh  to 
hear  the  Chaplain  read  at  evening  service  some  chapters 
of  St.  Paul's  epistles  relating  to  marriage  and  constancy. 
"The  Holy  Scriptures  he  had  read  and  reasoned  most 
well  on  them,  but  always  lamented  that  common  and 
ignorant  persons  were  allowed  to  read  them,  and  that  this 
liberty  was  the  rise  of  all  our  sects,  <jach  interpreting 
according  to  their  vile  notions,  and  to  accomplish  their 
horrid  wickednesses.  For  murther  they  v  ould  cite  Samuel 
for  hewing  to  pieces  Agag,  not  allowing  it  was  by  God's 
command,  and  so  throw  out  the  Scripture."  Here  are 
traces  of  Newcastle's  early  letter,  of  Catiolic  influence,  of 
hatred  to  Scotch  Presbyterianism,  which  Charles  told 
Lauderdale  to  "let  go,  for  it  is  not  a  religion  for  gentle- 
men ; "  while  he  wrote  to  Clarendon  :  "  For  my  part, 
rebell  for  rebell,  I  had  rather  trust  a  papist  rather  than  a 
presbiterian  one." 

The  rising  of  the  Fifth-Monarchy  lanatics  gave  an 
excuse  for  the  persecution  of  Dissenteis,  including  the 
Quakers  ("  Kakers  "  or  Trembleurs,  as  de  Comminges  calls 
them),  and  Pepys  records  seeing  them  dragged  unresist- 
ingly to  prison.  Of  the  Quakers,  William  Penn  was 
perhaps  the  most  notable  ;  and  it  is  said  that  while  talking 
to  the  King  one  day,  Charles  pulled  off"  his  own  hat,  and 
on  Penn  saying  "  Friend  Charles,  put  on  thy  hat,"  replied, 
"  Nay,  'tis  the  custom  of  this  place  that  only  one  person 
should  be  covered  at  a  time,"  a  very  subtle  rebuke  for 
Penn's  Quaker  and  uncourtly  manners  in  keeping  his  hat 
on.  Pepys  tells  us  that  one  morning  he  stood  by  "  the  King 
argueing  with  a  pretty  Quaker  woman,  that  delivered  to 


i66 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


him  a  desire  of  hers  in  writing,  she  modestly  saying 
nothing  till  he  begun  seriously  to  discourse  with  her, 
arguing  the  truth  of  his  spirit  against  hers ;  she  replying 
still  with  these  words  '  O  King ! '  and  thou'd  him  all 
along."  The  King  on  another  occasion  remarked  that 
Lord  Pembroke  had  heard  the  Quaker  at  the  tennis-court 
swearing  to  himself  when  he  lost.  Burnet's  account  of  the 
King's  religion  is  extremely  unfavourable,  this  being 
the  point  on  which  he  naturally  felt  most  strongly.  "  At 
prayers  and  at  sacrament  he,  as  it  were,  took  care  to 
satisfy  people  that  he  was  in  no  sort  concerned  in  that 
about  which  he  was  employed :  he  said  once  to  me  he  was 
no  atheist,  but  he  could  not  think  God  would  damn  a  man 
for  taking  a  little  pleasure  out  of  the  way ;  he  had  formed 
an  odd  idea  of  the  goodness  of  God  in  his  mind  ;  he  thought 
falsehood  and  cruelty,  to  be  wicked  and  design  mischief, 
were  the  only  things  God  hated,  and  said  to  me  often, 
that  he  was  sure  he  was  not  guilty  of  them  ;  he  thought 
an  implicitness  in  religion  is  necessary  for  the  safety  of 
government,  and  he  looked  upon  all  inquisitiveness  into 
those  things  as  mischievous  to  the  state." 

Charles  once  rebuked  Rochester  on  the  subject  of 
atheism  ;  other  sayings  of  his  on  religious  matters  vary 
from  the  ribaldry  of  free  conversation  to  remarks  of  some 
depth  and  feeling.  He  never  said  anything  recorded,  as 
bad  as  the  celebrated  remark  of  Buckingham,  when  asked 
on  his  death-bed  if  a  priest  should  be  fetched  :  "  No !  those 
rascals  eat  God  !  But  if  you  can  find  someone  who  eats 
the  devil,  I  should  be  glad  to  see  him."  Another  remark 
of  the  King's  on  a  Church  matter  is  worth  recording,  con- 
cerning WooUey,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Clonfert :  "  he  is  a 
very  honest  man,  but  a  very  great  blockhead,  to  whom  I 
gave  a  living  in  Suffolk  that  was  full  of  Nonconformists  ; 
he  went  about  among  them  from  house  to  house,  yet  I 
cannot  imagine  what  he  could  say  to  them,  for  he  is  a 
very  silly  fellow ;  but  I  believe  his  nonsense  suited  their 
nonsense ;  for  he  has  brought  them  all  to  Church." 


SCIENCE 


167 


The  Cavalier  Parliament  destroyed  the  droti  adminis- 
tratif  and  passed  the  four  great  penal  laws  against  Dis- 
senters, and  by  the  severity  with  which  th^y  enforced  those 
statutes,  crushed  Puritanism.  Yet  the  quarrels  between 
Church  and  Dissent  helped  the  growing  tmdency  towards 
free-thought,  indifference,  and  rationalism.  Indifference 
and  vice  became  a  fashion,  as  Butler  points  out: 

"  For  'tis  not  what  they  do  that's  now  1  he  sin, 
But  what  they  lewdly  affect  and  glorj  in, 
As  if  preposterously  they  would  proftss 
A  forc'd  hypocrisy  of  wickedness ; 
And  affectation  that  makes  good  things  bad, 
Must  make  affected  shame  accurs'd  snd  mad." 

A  more  accurate  diagnosis  of  the  chief  weakness  of  the 
Court  could  hardly  be  given  ;  Butler  has  set  his  finger  on 
the  plague  spot,  the  legitimating  of  affectation.  The  story 
told  of  Shaftesbury  (also  of  Disraeli)  is  indicative  of  the 
general  tone  in  religious  matters :  a  lady  hearing  him  say 
that  all  wise  men  were  of  one  religion,  asked  him,  "which 
was  that  ? "     "  Madam,  wise  men  never  telL" 

One  feature  of  the  new  order  of  things  was  the  growth 
of  the  scientific  spirit,  signalized  by  the  f  )undation  of  the 
-Jloyal  Society  in  1663.  The  King,  Dry  ien,  Evelyn,  and 
Pepys  were  among  its  members.  Cosmo  III  and  M.  de 
Sorbi^re  have  described  a  meeting  of  the  august  body  in 
1664-69:  "The  President  sits  in  an  elbow  chair  in  the 
middle  of  the  table  of  the  assembly,  with  his  back  to  the 
chimney,  and  has  a  large  silver  mace,  with  the  royal  arms, 
lying  before  him,— with  which  it  is  customary,  for  the 
mace-bearer,  or  porter  of  the  academy,  to  walk  before  him. 
He  has  a  little  wooden  mace  in  his  hand,  with  which  he 
strikes  the  table  when  he  would  command  silence.  The 
secretary  sits  at  the  head  of  the  table,  the  others  taking 
seats  indifferently  on  backed  wooden  seats  in  two  rows ; 
and  if  any  one  enter  unexpectedly,  after  the  meeting  has 
begun,   every   one   remains  seated,  nor    is  his  salutation 


/■ 


III  ^ 


f 


It 


i 


i68 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


returned,  except  by  the  president  alone,  who  acknowledges 
it  by  an  inclination  of  the  head,  that  he  may  not  interrupt 
the  person  who  is  speaking  on  the  subject  or  experiment 
proposed  by  the  secretary.  They  observe  the  custom  of 
speaking  to  the  President  uncovered,  waiting  from  him 
for  permission  to  be  covered."  Butler  ridiculed  the  Royal 
Society  in  particular  and  scientific  inquiry  generally, 
in  the  "  Elephant  in  the  Moon  " ;  perhaps  because  of  the 
rationalistic  and  secularizing  tendency  of  science,  but 
more  probably  because  of  the  numberless  quackeries  and 
chimeras  which  deluded  the  people  who  professed  interest 
in  science.  The  pursuit  of  wonders,  and  not  of  truth,  he 
satirized  particularly ;  but  his  general  attitude  resembles 
that  of  Swift  in  the  "  Voyage  to  Laputa,"  and  lacks  sym- 
pathy with  the  infantile  and  inchoate  stages  of  the  new 
movement.  In  spite  of  Butler  and  Swift,  science  was 
justified  of  her  children  Newton,  Locke,  Boyle,  and  others. 
Nevertheless,  Butler  is  amusing  enough  to  deserve  quota- 
tion on  the  subject : 

"  These  were  their  learned  speculations, 
And  all  their  constant  occupations. 
To  measure  wind,  and  weigh  the  air, 
And  turn  a  circle  to  a  square ; 
To  make  a  powder  of  the  sun, 
By  which  all  doors  should  b'  undone ; 
To  find  the  North- West  Passage  out, 
Although  the  farthest  way  about ; 
If  chymist  from  a  rose's  ashes 
Can  raise  the  rose  itself  in  glasses  ? 
Whether  the  line  of  incidence 
Rise  from  the  object,  or  the  sense  ? 
To  shew  th'  elixir  in  a  bath 
Of  hope,  credulity,  and  faith ; 
To  explicate,  by  subtle  hints, 
The  grain  of  diamonds  and  flints. 
And  in  the  braying  of  an  ass 
Find  out  the  treble  and  the  bass  ; 
If  mares  neigh  alto,  and  a  cow 
A  double  diapason  low." 


/ 


ASTROLOGY 


169 


The  gradual  growth  of  the  scientific  spirit  in  the  seventeenth 
century  can,  of  course,  be  traced,  and  notable  landmarks 
are  Burton's  "Anatomy  of  Melanchoiy"  in  1621,  a 
storehouse  and  summary  of  the  older  learning,  and  the 
"Pseudodoxia  Epidemica"  or  "Vulgai  Errors'*  of  Sir 
Thomas  Browne  in  1650,  of  which  the  intention  rather 
than  the  execution  is  significant. 

In  spite  of  Sir  Thomas's  dictum  in  his  best-known  work, 
the"Religio  Medici"  (1642) :  "I  have   ever  believed,  and 
do  now  know,  that  there  are  witches,"  t  le  belief  in  such 
beings,  and  consequently  the  persecution  of  women  reputed 
to  be  such,  declined  in  this  reign.     These  remarks  must,  of 
course,  be  taken    to  apply  only  to  the   upper  and    more 
enlightened  classes  ;  and  even  among  the  n,  as  often  in  the 
decadence  of  old  beliefs,  certain  superstitions  flourished 
more  than  ever;  for  instance,  that  of  astrology.     Horo- 
scopes and  divination  of  all  kinds  were  greatly  sought  by 
all  classes,  especially  the  great  ladies,  from  astrologers  and 
wizards.    Rochester  acted  for  some  time  as  a  "  wise  man  "  ; 
Buckingham    and    Shaftesbury   consulted   them ;    Butler 
ridiculed  them  in  his  portrait  of  Sidrophel  in  "  Hudibras  "  ; 
the  horoscopes  of  many  notabilities  of  the  time  are  still 
extant,  including  that  of  Nell  Gwyn.     The  King  despised 
and  ridiculed  astrology,  and  had  many  a  jo  Ice  at  the  expense 
of  a   luckless  Abb6  Pregnani,  sent  over  as  secret   agent 
by   Louis   XIV,  under  the   guise   of  as:rologer-scientist. 
"  L*Abb^  Pregnany  is  heere,  and  wonders  very  much  at  the 
pleasure  everybody  takes  at  the  races,  he  v  as  so  weary  with 
riding  from  Audley  End  hither,  to  see  the  foot-match,  as  he 
is  scarse  recovered  yett."  .  .  .  "  L'Abbd  Pregnany  was  there 
most  part  of  the  time,  and  I  believe  wiL  give  you  some 
account  of  it,  but  not  that  he  lost  his  money  upon  con- 
fidence that  the  Starrs  could  tell  which  horse  would  winn, 
for  he  had   the   ill    luck   to  foretell   thrje    times   wrong 
together,  and  James  [Duke  of  Monmouth]  believed  him  so 
much,  as  he  lost  his  money  upon  the  same  score."  ...  "I 
finde  the  poore  Abb6  very  much  trouble  d,  for  feare  that 


\ 


'    { 


VJ 


170 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


T  1      I 


I 

II 


the  railleryes  about  foretelling  the  horse  matches  may 
have  done  him  some  prejudice  with  you,  which  I  hope  it 
has  not  done,  for  he  was  only  trying  new  trickes,  which  he 
had  read  of  in  bookes,  and  gave  as  little  creditt  to  them  as 
we  did.  ..."  The  King  was  much  interested  in  every- 
thing "  scientific,"  especially  in  chemistry,  natural  history, 
and  mechanics.  He  sent  for  a  professor  from  France  and 
built  him  a  laboratory  in  St.  James'  Park  ;  while  he  had 
a  private  "  elaboratory  "  himself  under  his  closet  at  White- 
hall, filled  with  the  "  chymical  glasses  "  and  other  apparatus 
which  puzzled  Pepys.  Here  the  King  spent  many  hours 
with  Sir  Robert  Moray,  and  discussed  not  only  science, 
but  also  privy  matters  of  state,  especially  affairs  of  Scot- 
land, Lauderdale  being  a  common  friend.  As  early  as 
October,  1660,  "His  Majesty  was  lately,  in  an  evening,  at 
Gresham  College,  where  he  was  entertained  with  the  admir- 
able long  Tube,  with  which  he  viewed  the  heavens,  to  his 
very  great  satisfaction  ;  insomuch  that  he  commended  Sir 
P.  Neale  to  cause  the  like  to  be  made  (the  former  cost 
£\Qo)  for  the  use  of  Whitehall  ...  His  Majesty  hath  also 
threatened  to  bestow  a  visit  upon  Mr.  Boyle."  The  diary 
of  Evelyn  is  full  of  references  to  conversations  with  the 
King  on  all  possible  subjects,  including  bees,  Saturn, 
glass  granades,  clocks,  and  watches,  Evelyn's  various 
projects,  and  the  like.  He  wrote  a  letter  to  Madame  about 
the  Comet  of  1674  (December)  ;  *  he  kept  a  menagerie 
and  aviary  in  St.  James'  Park,  and  paid  much  attention 
to  horticulture,  while  he  both  watched  and  performed 
dissections   and   operations   on   the   human   body.      The 

*  "  Whitehall,  26  December,  1664..  We  have  seene  here  the  Comett,  but 
the  wether  has  been  so  cloudy,  as  I  never  saw  it  but  once.  It  was  very  low, 
and  had  a  taile  that  stood  upwards,  it  is  now  above  12  days  since  I  saw  it, 
but  upon  Christmas  eve  and  the  night  before,  there  was  another  seene  very 
much  higher  than  the  former.  I  saw  it  both  nights,  and  it  lookes  much  lesser 
than  the  first,  but  none  of  the  Astroni  mers  can  tell  whether  it  be  a  new  one  or 
the  old  one  grown  less  and  got  up  higher,  but  all  conclude  it  to  be  no  ordinary 
Starr.  Pray  enquire  of  the  skillfull  men,  and  lett  me  know  whether  it  has  been 
seen  at  Paris.  This  new  one  was  seene  here,  the  23  and  24  of  this  month,  old 
style,  and  had  a  little  taile  which  stood  north-east.  .  .  .  C.  R." 


TOUCHING   FOR  THE   JiVIL  171 

Observatory  at  Greenwich  and  the  Mathematical  School  at 
Christ's  Hospital  remain  to  testify  to  his  i  titerest  in  science. 
Charles  yearly  took  part  in  a  ceremony  closely  related 
either  to   science   or   superstition,    the  Touching  for   the 
King's  Evil.i     For  the  Touching  ceremony  tickets  had  to 
be  obtained  by  those  who  desired  to  be  healed,  at  the 
surgeon's  house,  in  order  to  admit  them   to  the  ceremony. 
If  at  Whitehall,   the   King   sat   under    his  state   in   the 
Banqueting   House  ;  if  at  Newmarket  or  elsewhere,  the 
ceremony  took  place  in   any  large   room,  and  a  carpet, 
with  a  chair  thereon,  was  set  for  the  Kng.    At  a  given 
signal,  the  two  assistant  chaplains,  in  surplices,  say  some 
prayers,  and  then  the  surgeon$  bring  up  the  sick  persons, 
one  by  one,  and  they  kneeling,  his  Maje  sty  strokes  their 
faces  or  cheeks  with  both  hands  at  once,  also  touching 
them  in  the  parts  affected.     As  each  is  touched,  he  retires 
orderly  to  his  original  place.     At  the  morient  of  touching, 
a  chaplain  says,  «  He  put  his  hands  upon  :hem,  and  healed  \ 
them."     When  they  have  all  been  touched,  the  minister, 
kneeling  with   all  by-standers,  the  King  only  remaining 
seated,  repeats  the  prayers,  after  which,  all  rising,  the  sick 
come  again  in  the  same  order  as  before,  and  the  other 
chaplain   kneeling,  having  gold  angels,    jtrung   on  white 
or  blue  ribbon  on  his  arm,  delivers  them  one  by  one  to 
his  Majesty,  who  puts  them  about  the  necks  of  the  touched 
as  they  pass,  whilst  the  first  chaplain  repents,  "  That  is  the 
true  Light  who  came  into  the  world."     Then  follows  an 
Epistle  (as  at  first  a  Gospel),  with  the  Liturgy  prayers  for 
the  sick,  with  some  alterations  ;  lastly,  the  blessing ;  and 
then  the  Lord  Chamberlain  and  the  Conptroller  of  the 
Household  bring  a  basin,  ewer,  and  towel,  for  his  Majesty 
to  wash.     On  one  occasion  the  people  w<ire  kept  waiting 
some  hours  in  the  rain,  though  finally  the   King  did  per- 
form  the  ceremony ;  and  to  avoid  similar  inconveniences, 
an  advertisement  was  inserted  in  the  Public  Intelligencer 
of  May,  1664:   "Whitehall,  14  May,  16^4,     His  Sacred 

'  He  was  also  the  first  English  sovereign  to  coin  Ilaundy  money. 


i  ( 


p' 


172 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


Majesty  having  declared  it  to  be  his  Royal  Will  and  pur- 
pose to  continue  the  healing  of  his  people  for  the  Evil 
during  the  month  of  May,  and  then  to  give  over  till 
Michaelmas  next,  I  am  commanded  to  give  notice  thereof, 
that  the  people  may  not  come  up  to  Town  in  the  Interim 
and  lose  their  labour.'* 

The  King  discovered  the  fraud  of  Mompesson  and  the 
invisible  drummer  in  his  house,  and  had  all  kinds  of 
experiments  tried  before  him,  with  a  view  to  determining 
their  genuineness.^  By  the  people  at  large  the  almanacs 
of  Lilly,  Montelion,  Nostradamus,  and  Mother  Shipton 
were  eagerly  bought,  and  ghost  stories  believed,  much  as 
now.  Charms  and  folk-magic  entered  into  medicine  and 
quacks  swarmed  in  London,  especially  in  Moorfields, 
under  the  signs  of  Balls  of  different  colours,  or  else  as 
itinerant  mountebanks.  Various  ancient  remedies,  such 
as  hare's-foot  for  colic,  pigeons  tied  to  the  feet  in  extremis, 
to  sit  in  scalding  milk  and  drink  candy  posset  for  a  cold, 
were  still  devoutly  believed  in. 

Through  the  influence  of  Louis  XIV,  the  King  of 
England  sought  him  a  wife  in  Portugal,^  and  there  are 
early  references  to  wedding-negotiations  in  the  Council- 
notes.  "  I  send  you  heere  my  Letter  that  is  for  the  Queen 
of  Portugal,  'tis  the  worst  Spanish  that  ever  was  written, 
and  if  it  were  possible,  it  ought  to  have  been  mended,  but 
now  that  cannot  be,  looke  it  over  and  see  if  I  have  written 
it  right,  and  send  it  me  back  with  the  super-  and  subscrip- 
tion !     For    the    Chancelour."  ..."  friday    night.      My 

»  Chas.  Hatton  to  Chr.  H.,  25  July,  1676.  "  Here  is  a  Welshman  who 
pretends  to  cure  any  wound  whatsoever  in  the  boweles  or  any  part,  except  the 
heart,  in  a  few  houres.  .  .  .  Severale  pigges,  kidds,  and  chickens  have,  in 
the  King's  presence,  been  run  into  tlie  bowells  and  through  the  head  wth 
knives  and  hot  irons,  and  cured  in  a  short  time  by  this  man's  medicines."  In 
March,  l666,  Valentine  Greatrakes,  Clrattrix,  or  Greatorex,  an  Irishman,  the 
"stroker"  [=  masseur?]  appeared  at  Court,  and  won  the  support  of  the 
Bishop  of  Hereford,  among  others,  by  doing  things  "  beyond  the  power  of 
nature."    (Sir  Chas.  Lyttleton  to  Chr.  Hatton.) 

*  When  certain  German  Princess<;s  were  suggested,  Charles  said,  "  Od's 
fish,  they  are  all  foggy,  and  I  cannot  like  any  one  of  them  for  a  wife." 


THE   KING'S  MARRIAC^E 


^7Z 


Bro.  tells  me  that  there  are  two  ships  now  at  Portsmouth, 
expecting  a  winde  for  the  Straights,  who  may  land  any 
messenger  at  Lisbon,  they  shall  have  ordcir  to  stay,  until 
farther  order,  therefore  lett  the  dispatch  be  hastened  all 
you  can,  and  I  thinke  a  letter  from  me  to  my  wife  will  be 
necessary  ;  you  may  send  for  H.  Bennett  t3  prepare  it  and 
give  him  instructions  for  the  contents  of  it  For  the 
Chancelour."  .  ,  .  K,  :  "I  thinke  we  have  not  yett 
thought  of  the  maner  of  my  mariage,  it  will  be  necessary 
we  meete  about  it."  C:  "it  is  so  longe  since  it  was 
thought  of,  that  it  may  be  forgotten,  but  you  did  thinke  of 
every  part  of  it,  before  the  Ambassador  \/ent ;  you  must 
have  a  Bishopp  with  you,  she  must  marry  you  before  you 
goe  to  bedd,  and  she  is  prepared  to  submitt  to  it,^  as  a 
ciuill  obligacon,  for  the  legitimacon  of  h[er]  children." 
K, :  "  This  which  you  say,  was  quite  all  out  of  my  minde  ; 
I  hope  she  hath  consulted  with  the  Jesuitus,  who  are  best 
able  to  vote  a  eclesiasticall  obligation  in:o  a  ciuill  one." 
C, :  "  It  was  the  grounds  of  the  pressinge  you  so  presently 
to  style  her  your  wife,  and  that  shee  be  reputed  as  marryed 
before  shee  come  thence,  after  shee  comes  hither,  shee  will 
do  that  is  necessary  for  herself  and  children ;  you  cannot 
be  marryed  by  a  Roman  Priest,  therefore  shee  must  by  a 
Bishopp  of  yours." 

It  was  decided  that  the  King  should  laeet  his  bride  at 
Portsmouth,  and  he  writes  on  this  point  to  Clarendon :  "  I 
shall  have  one  conveniency  in  it  too,  that  if  I  should  fall 
asleepe  to  soone  when  I  come  to  Portsmouth,  I  may  lay 
the  faulte  vpon  my  Longe  iourney."  I,ong  before  the 
Queen  left  Portugal,  Thos.  Maynard  wrot  5  to  Sir  Edward 
Nicholas  in  her  praise:  "Lisbon,  19-29  J aly,  1661.  Wee 
shall  be  extreame  happy  as  a  Queene.  Sliee  is  as  sweete 
a  disposition  Princes   as  everr  was  borne,  and  a  lady  of 

*  They  were  married  according  to  the  Catholic  rit<s  by  Lord  Aubigny, 
and  according  to  the  Anglican  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury ;  but  it  is 
said  that  the  Queen  would  not  bear  the  sight  of  him,  or  siy  the  words,  so  much 
was  she  bigoted.    (I  doubt  this.) 


II 


rr 


II 


174  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

excellent  partes,  and  bred  hugely  retired.  She  hath  hardly 
been  ten  tymes  out  of  the  Palace  in  her  life.  In  five 
yeares  time  shee  was  not  out  of  doores,  untill  she  harde  of 
his  Ma'***  intentions  to  make  her  a  Queen  of  England, 
since  which  shee  hath  been  to  visit  two  saintes  in  the  city  ; 
and  very  shortly  shee  intends  to  pay  her  devotion  to  some 
saintes  in  the  country."  Poor  child,  what  a  training,  in 
view  of  the  Court  and  husband  to  whom  she  went !  As 
soon  as  the  Queen  landed  in  England,  May,  1662,  and 
came  to  her  lodgings,  she  received  Lady  Suffolk  and  the 
other  ladies-in-waiting  very  kindly,  and  appointed  them 
1 5  May  morning  to  come  and  dress  her  in  the  way  they 
thought  would  be  most  pleasing  to  the  King;  "and  I 
doubt  not,  when  they  have  done  their  partes,  she  will 
appear  to  much  more  advantage,  and  very  well  to  the 
King's  contentment.  She  is  a  Prince  of  extraordinary 
goodness  of  disposition ;  very  discreet  and  pious,  and  the 
most  hopeful  that  ever  was  of  makinge  the  Kinge  and  all 
of  us  happy." 

The  King  arrived  in  Portsmouth  about  three  in  the 
afternoon  on  20  May,  and  immediately  visited  his  Queen 
in  her  bed-chamber,  where  she  lay  with  a  feverish  sore 
throat  "Their  meeting  was  with  due  expressions  of 
affection,  the  Queen  declaring  her  perfect  resignation  to 
the  King's  pleasure.  ...  I  do  beleeve  this  first  inter- 
view hath  bene  with  much  contentment  on  both  sides."  ^ 
Nevertheless,  it  was  probably  with  reference  to  this  first 
interview  that  Charles  said  to  Colonel  Legge  that  he 
thought  they  had  sent  him  a  bat  instead  of  a  woman  ; 
"but  it  was  too  late  to  find  fault,  and  he  must  make 
the  best  he  could  of  a  bad  matter."  It  is  doubtful  to 
what  exact  date  Reresby  refers  when  he  says :  "  It  was 
easy  to  see  that  the  King  was  not  excessively  charmed 
with  his  new  bride."  Her  Portuguese  attendants  had 
perhaps  muffled  her  up  in  an  extraordinary  way  as  she 
lay  in  bed.    After  the  consummation  of  the  marriage,  the 

*  Lister,  Life  of  Clarendon. 


THE  NEW  QUEEN  175 

King  wrote  a  very  frank  letter  to  Clarendon,  of  which 
only  part  can  be  quoted :  "21  May  ...  I  can  only  now 
give  you  an  account  of  what  I  have  seen(i  abed,  which  in 
shorte  is,  her  face  is  not  so  exact  as  to  be  called  a  beauty, 
though   her  eyes  are  excellent  good,  and  not  anything 
in  her  face  that  in  the  least  degree  can  fhoque  one-  on 
the   contrary,   she  hath   as   much   agreeableness    in    her 
looks  altogether  as  ever  I  saw,  and  if  I  have  any  skill  in 
visiognimy,  which  I  think  I  have,  she  mi  st  be  as  good  a 
woman  as  ever  was  borne.     Her  conversation,  as  much 
as  I  can  perceive,  is  very  good,  for  she  has  witt  enough, 
and   a    most   agreeable  voyse.     You  would  wonder  to 
see  how  well  we  are  acquainted  already.     In  a  worde,  I 
thinke  myself  very  happy ;  for  I  am  confident  our  two 
humours  will  agree  very  well  together."     Again,  on  the 
25th  :  "  Portsmouth.     My  brother  will  tell  you  of  all  that 
passes  heire,  which  I  hope  will  be  to  your  satisfaction.     I 
am  sure  'tis  so  much  to  mine,  that  I  canno:  easily  tell  you 
how  happy  I  think  myselfe,  and  I  must  be  the  worst  man 
living  (which  I  hope  I  am  not)  if  I  be  not  a  good  husband. 
I  am  confident  never  two  humours  weie  better  fitted 
together  than  ours  are.     We  cannot  stirr  from  hence  till 
Tuesday,  by  reason  that  there  is  not  cartes  to  be  had 
to-morrow,  to  transporte  all  our  guarde  infantas,  without 
whome  there  is  no  stirring,  so  as  you  are  not  to  expect 
mee  till  Thursday  night  at  Ham  ton  Courte."    There  is  no 
doubt  that  the  Queen  fell  in  love  with  her  husband  at  first 
sight,  and  that  she  continued  to  be  in  love  with  him  till 
his  death.     From  the  extremely  conflicting  accounts  of 
her  person  and  her  temper,  it  is  a  probable  solution  of  the 
mystery  hanging  over  the  whole  affair,  that  her  beauty 
depended    largely    on    expression,    and    lier    expression 
depended  on  the  degree  of  nervousness  \/hich  she  felt ; 
she  was  an  extremely  shy  and  high-strung  woman,  and 
made  her  impression  according  to  these  circumstances. 
It  is  possible  that  the  Queen  may  have  an  loyed  or  bored 
Charles   on  some   occasion   during  the   week    after    his 


\\\ 


•^■■^■■''-  ■■■■'■■■  -A  "■* 


■  r ..-.  J4'. 


' 


I 


^t 


I 


I 


f 


176 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   GOURT 


marriage,  by  not  looking  her  best  at  a  critical  moment, 
or  by  presenting  a  particular  contrast  owing  to  some 
such  cause,  to  Lady  Castlemaine,  when  he  saw  that  lady 
again.  This  is  not  an  attempt  to  defend  the  King's 
subsequent  conduct ;  but  an  attempt  to  supply  a  reason 
for  a  course  of  action  which  appears,  in  the  light  of  his 
own  letters,  apart  from  other  evidence,  extremely  strange. 
On  30  May,  the  Queen  arrived  at  Hampton  Court  with  her 
train  "in  monstrous  fardi'ngales  or  guard-infantas,  their 
complexion  olivader  or  sufficiently  unagreeable.  Her 
Ma*^-  in  the  same  habit,  her  foretop  very  long  and  turned 
aside  very  strangely.  Though  low  of  stature,  prettily 
shaped ;  languishing  and  excellent  eyes,  her  teeth  wronging 
her  mouth  by  sticking  a  little  too  far  out ;  for  the  rest 
lovely  enough."  On  31  May,  Pepys  still  hears  that  the 
King  "  is  pleased  enough  with  her  "  ;  and  on  some  day  in 
May,  Charles  wrote  from  Whitehall  to  his  sister:  ^  "My  lord 
of  St.  Alban's  will  give  you  soe  full  a  description  of  my  wife 
as  I  shall  not  goe  about  to  doe  it  only  I  must  tell  you  I 
think  myself  very  happy.  I  was  married  the  day  before 
yesterday,  but  the  fortune  that  follows  my  family  is  fallen 
upon  me,  car  Monseigneur  le  Cardinal  nCa  fermi  la  forte 
au  nez?  But  I  flatter  myself  I  was  not  so  furious  as 
Monsieur  was,  and  shall  let  this  passe.  I  intend,  on 
Monday  next  to  go  to  Hamton  Court,  where  I  shall  stay 
till  the  Queene  [  =  Henrietta  Maria]  comes.  My  deerest 
sister,  continue  your  kindness  to  me,  and  beleeve  me  to  be 
intirely  yours,  C.  R."  Charles  had  said  that  "  if  he  ever 
could  be  guilty  of  keeping  a  mistress  after  he  was  married, 
she  should  never  come  where  his  wife  was."  Yet  by  June 
he  thrust  Lady  Castlemaine  upon  his  wife  as  a  lady  of 
the  bed-chamber.  The  Queen  pricked  her  out  of  the 
list  presented  to  her  by  the  King,  so  that  she  had  either 

*  The  Catholic  marriage  was  on  24  May,  so  this  letter  must  have  been 
26  May. 

*  Aubigny  was  not  a  Cardinal,  so  Charles  mast  be  quoting  from  an  incident 
at  his  sister's  wedding. 


BARBARA  VILLIERS,  COUNTESS  OF  CASTLEMAINE 

FROM   THE    PAINTING    BY   LELY   AT   ALTHOKP 


THE   CASTLEMAINE   AFFAIR  177 

seen  or  heard  of  the  lady  already ;  according  to  Pepys' 
informant,  the  King  was  angry,  and  the  Queen  discontented 
a  whole  day  and  night  upon  it,  asking  him  to  do  her  that 
favour,  or  send  her  back  whence  she  came :  but  a  letter  of 
the  King's  to  Clarendon,  early  in  June,  does  not  help  one 
to  believe  that  Charles  ever  wavered  in   his   resolution, 
though  the  very  vehemence  of  the  letter  may  suggest  that 
he  was  somewhat  ashamed  of  himself,  and  was  trying  to 
drown  his  scruples:   for  it  is  inconceivable  that  a  man 
whom   even  Burnet  calls  "certainly  the    hest-bred   man 
in  the  world  "  was  not  aware  of  the  scurvy  part  he  was 
playing,  even  if  we  take  the  very  narrowest  interpretation 
of  the  word   base-bred.      It   may  be,  however,  that  the 
King  held  a  low  opinion  of  women  in  general,  that  he 
had  tired  of  that  new  toy,  a  wife,  and  that  proximity  to 
Barbara  Palmer  had  only  increased  his  passion  for  that 
splendid  piece  of  Eve's  flesh.     The  only  glimmer  of  good 
feeling,  in  fact,  lies  in  the  very  vehemence  of  the  letter, 
showing  an  unusual  strain,   for   Charles  was   a   man   of 
extraordinary    self-control.      When    he    speaks    of    his 
"honour,"   it   is   possible  that  in   the  blindness    of   the 
moment,  he  is  setting  up  a  promise  made  in  a  moment 
of  passion  to  the  Castlemaine,  above  his  duty  to  his  wife 
and  his  better  feelings. 

This  is  the  King's  letter :  "  I  forgott,  when  you  weare 
heere  last,  to  desire  you  to  give  Broderick  g.ood  counsell, 
not  to  meddle  any  more  with  what  concerns  my  Lady 
Castlemaine,  and  to  lett  him  have  a  care  how  he  is  the 
authorre  of  any  scandalous  reports  ;  for  if  I  fijid  him  guilty 
of  any  such  thing,  I  will  make  him  repent  i  t  to  the  last 
moments  of  his  life.  And  now  I  am  entered  on  this  matter, 
I  think  it  very  necessary  to  give  you  a  little  ijood  councell 
in  it,  and  least  you  may  think  that,  by  making  a  further 
stirr  in  the  businesse,  you  may  deverte  mee  from  my 
resolution,  which  all  the  world  shall  never  do  ;  and  I  wish 
I  may  be  unhappy  in  this  world  and  the  wofi  d  to  come,  if 
I  faile  in  the  least  degree  what  I  have  resolved ;  which  is, 

N  ' 


r 


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178  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

of  making  my  Lady  Castlemajne  of  my  wives  bedchamber  ; 
and  whosoever  I  find  use  any  endeavour  to  hinder  this 
resolution  of  myne  (except  it  be  only  to  myselfe)  I  will  be 
his  enemy  to  the  last  moment  of  my  life.     You  know  how 
true  a  friende  I  have  been  to  you.     If  you  will  oblige  me 
eternally,  make  this  businesse  as  easy  as  you  can,  of  what 
opinion  soever  you  are  of ;  for  I  am  resolVd  to  go  through 
with  this  matter,  lett  what  will  come  of  it  ;  which  againe  I 
solemnly  sweare  before  Almighty  God.    Therefore,  if  you 
desire  to  have  the  continuance  of  my  friendship,  meddle 
no  more  with  this  businesse  except  it  be  to  beare  downe  all 
false  and  scandalous  reports,  and  to  facilitate  what  I  am 
sure  my  honour  is  so  much  concerned  in  ;  and  whosoever 
I  finde  to  be  my  Lady  Castlemaine's  enemy  in  this  matter, 
I  do  promise,  upon  my  word,  to  be  his  enemy  as  long  as  I 
live.     You  may  shew  this  letter  to  my  L^-  L'^S  if  you  have 
both  a  minde  to  oblige  me,  carry  yourselves  like  frinds 
to  me  in  this  matter.     Charles  R."     In  July,^  Clarendon 
writes  to  Ormonde,  "the  Kinge  is  perf^-  recovered  of  his 
indispositions,  in  which  you  left  him.     I  wish  he  were  as 
free  from  all  others.     I  have  had  since  I  saw  you,  three  or 
four  full  long  conferences,  with  much  better  temper  than 
before.     I  have  likewise  twice  spoken  at  large  with   the 
Queen.    The  Lady  hath  beene  at  Courte,  and  kissed  her 
hande,  and  returned  that  night.      I  cannot  tell  you,  ther 
was  no  discomposure.     I  am  not  out  of  hope,  and  that  is 
all  I  can  yett  say."  ^     On  23  August,  the  Queen  came  to 
London,  and  there  went  to  meet  her  "  innumerable  boates 
and  vessels,  dress'd  and  adorn'd  with  all  imaginary  pomp, 
with  thrones,  arches,  pageants,  and  other  representations, 

»  17  July  ;  now,  while  the  Bedchamber  Warrant  is  dated  i  June,  it  is  on 
26  July  that  Pepys  mentions  the  quarrel  of  King  and  Queen  ;  though,  of  course, 
he  may  be  speaking  of  some  time  past:.  In  any  case,  it  would  seem  that  Lady 
Castlemaine  did  not  become  of  the  bedchamber  for  some  little  time. 

«  This  reconciliation  task  must  have  been  most  distasteful  to  Clarendon ; 
for  he  would  not  pass  the  patents  for  the  Earldom  of  Palmer ;  he  would  not 
aUow  his  wife  to  visit  *'the  lady,"  and  never  courted  her,  or  visited  her 
himself. 


KATHERINE  AT  COURT  179 

stately  barges  of  the  Lord  Mayor  and  cctnpanies,  with 
various  inventions,  musiq  and  peales   of  ordnance  both 
from  vessells  and  the  shore.    His  Majesty  aid  the  Queene 
came  in  an  antiq  shap'd  open  vessell,  coverM  with  a  state 
or  canopie  of  cloth  of  gold,  made  in  form  of  a  cupola 
supported    with   high   Corinthian   pillars,   wreath'd  with 
flowers,  festoons,  and  garlands."     Two  pag.:ants  preceded 
them,  one  of  a  King  and  Queen  with  her  miids  of  honour 
at  her  feet.     On  7  September  "  the  King  ard  Queen  were 
very  merry ;  and  he  would  have  made  the  Queen-Mother 
believe  that  his  Queen  was  with  child,  and  said  that  she 
said  so.      And   the  young  Queen  answered  'You  lye'- 
which  was  the  first  English  word  that  I  tver  heard  her 
say ;  which  made  the  King  good  sport ;  and   he  would 
have   taught   her   to    say   in   English   'Confess   and    be 
hanged.' "     On  9  September,  Clarendon  wites  again  to 
Ormonde  :  "All  things  are  bad  with  reference  to  the  Lady  ; 
but  I  think  not  so  bad  as  you  heere.     Every  body  takes' 
her  to  be  of  the  bedchamber  ;  for  she  is  always  there  and 
goes  abrode  in  the  coach.     But  the  Queen  tells  me,'  that 
the  King  promised   her,  that  she  should    aever   live  in 
court ;  yet  lodgings,  I  hear,  she  hath.     I  heare  of  no  back 
staires.       The  worst    is,   the    King   is    as    discomposed 
as  ever ;    and  looks  as  little  after  his  business ;   which 
breaks  my  heart,  and  makes  me  and  other  of  your  friends 
weary  of  our  lives.     He  seeks  for  his  sat  sfaction   and 
delight  in  other  company,  which  do  not  love  him  so  well 
as  you  and  I  do.     I  hope  it  will  not  last  always."     On 
24  October,  "  the  King  do  shew  no  countenance  to  any 
tliat  belong  to  the  Queen  ;  nor,  above  all,  to  5uch  English 
as  she  brought  over  with  her,  or  hath  here  since,  for  fear 
they  should    tell    her  how  he   carries  himself  to  Mrs. 
Falmer  ...  yet  the  Queen  do  know  how  the  King  orders 
tilings,  and  how  he  carries  himself  to  my  Lady  Castlemaine 
and  others,  as  well  as  any  body,  but  though  she  hath  spirit 
enough,  yet  seeing  that  she  had  no  good  by  taking  notice 
of  It,  she  forbears  it  in  policy."    On  25  OctobcT,  Clarendon 


'I 


m 


I  I 


i8o  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

writes  to  Ormond  for  the  third  time  in  the  same  hopeless 
strain:  "Worcester  House,  1662:  .  .  .  That  w''^  breakes 
my  hearte  is,  that  the  same  affections  continew  still,  the 
same  lazynesse  and  unconcernednesse  in  businesse,  and  a 
proportionable  abatement  of  reputation." 

The  Queen  began  now  to  fall  in  with  the  more  in- 
nocent  diversions  of  the  Court,  and  to  dress  more  in  the 
free-and-easy  style  of  the  ladies  there^to  raise  the  petti- 
coat  and   lower  the  stays,  as   Addison   puts  it   m  the 
Guardian.      Katherine   luckily   had   a  sense  of  humour, 
which  must  have  stood  her  in  good  stead,  and  possibly 
attracted  the  King  at  first,  and  at  intervals  afterwards  ; 
for  says  the  King,  "  we  had  a  designe  to  have  had  a  mas- 
querade  here,  and  had  made  no  ill  design  in  the  generale  for 
it,  but  we  were  not  able  to  go  through  with  it,  not  haveing 
one  man  heere  that   could  make    a  tolerable  entry.      I 
have   been    perswading   the    Queen  [-mother]   to   follow 
Queen-mother  of  France's  example,  and  goe  in  masque- 
rade before   the  carnavall  be  done,    I   beleeve  it  worth 
seeing   my  Lord    St.  Alban's  in  such  an  occasion.     My 
wife  hath  given  a  good  introduction  to  such  a  businesse, 
for  the  other  day  she  made  my  Lord  Aubigny  and  two 
other  of  her  chaplains  dance  country  dances  in  her  bed- 
chamber.    I  am  just  now  called  for  to  goe  to  the  Play, 
so  as  I  can  say  no  more  at  present,  but  that  I  am  intirely 
yours,  C.  R."     Charles  attended  to  his  wife's  wishes  and 
whims,  and  the  fact  that  we  find  the  mistresses'  apart- 
ments  far  more  magnificently  furnished  than  the  Queen's 
is  rather  due  to  the  Queen's  preference  for  simplicity,  and 
to  the  fact  that  she  did  not  bother  the  King  with  requests, 
like  the  other  ladies  ;  for  the  King  is  "  very  kind  to  those 
he  loves,  but  never  thinks  of  doing  anything  for  them,  so 
that  if  they  can  find  things  for  themselves  he  will  easily 
enough  grant  them,  but  he  never  sets  himself  to  find  out 
anything  for  them."     The  Queen  had  little  in  her  room 
but  "  some  pretty  pious  pictures,  and  books  of  devotion, 
and  her  holy  water  at  her  head  as  she  sleeps,  with  her 


THE  QUEEN'S   DEVOTIONS 


181 


% 


clock  by  her  bedside,  wherein  a  lamp  burns  that  tells  her 
the  time  of  the  night  at  any  time."  For  these  and  other 
pious  pictures  Charles  had  written  to  Madame :  "  I  send 
you  heere,  the  title  of  a  little  booke  of  devoi.ion  in  Spanish 
which  my  wife  desires  to  have,  by  the  directions  you  will 
see  where  'tis  to  be  had,  and  pray  send  tv^o  of  them  by 
the  first  convenience.  My  dearest  sister,  I  am  intirely 
yours,  C.  R.  .  .  . "  "  Pray  send  me  some  images,  to  put 
in  prayer-books.  They  are  for  my  wife,  whc  can  gett  none 
heare.  I  assure  you  it  will  be  a  greate  present  to  her,  and 
she  will  looke  upon  them  often,  for  she  is  net  only  content 
to  say  the  great  office  in  the  breviere  every  day,  but  like- 
wise that  of  our  Lady  too,  and  this  is  besides  going  to 
chapel,  where  she  makes  use  of  none  of  thej  e  ..."  "  My 
wife  thanks  you  kindly  for  the  images,  you  sent  her,  they 
are  very  fine  ones,  she  never  saw  such  before."  On  22 
July,  1663,  Madame  wrote  to  her  brother,  hinting  at  his 
infidelities,  and  about  this  time  he  paid  mere  attention  to 
the  Queen.^ 

In  October  Katherine  fell  ill,  and  aluost  died  in 
November,  but  the  King's  care  and  display  of  affection  in 
some  measure  contributed  to  her  recovery  j  Charies  came 
and  wept  by  her,  "  whereupon  she  said  that  she  willingly 

'  Pepys,  13  July,  1663 :  «  Hearing  that  the  K.  and  ().  are  rode  abroad 
with  the  Ladies  of  Honour  to  the  Park,  and  seeing  a  grea' crowd  of  gallants 
staying  here  to  see  their  return,  I  also  staid  walking  up  and  down.     By  and  by 
the  K.  and  Q.,   who  looked  in  this  dress  (a  white  laced  waistcoat  and  a 
crimson  short  petty  coat,  and  her  hair  dressed  4  la  negligence)  mighty  pretty  ; 
and  the  King  rode  hand  in  hand  with  her.     Here  was  also  my  Lady  Castle- 
raaine  rode  among  the  rest  of  the  ladies  ;  but  the  King  tcok,  methought,  no 
notice  of  her ;  nor  when  they  light  did  anybody  press  (as  she  seemed  to  expect, 
and  staid  for  it)  to  take  her  down,  but  was  taken  down  by  ler  own  gentleman. 
She  looked  mighty  out  of  humour,  and  had  a  yellow  plume  in  her  hat  (which 
all  took  notice  of),  and  yet  is  very  handsome,  but  very  melancholy;  nor  did 
anybody  speak  to  her,  or  she  so  much  as  smile  or  speak  to  an  ,^body .    I  followed 
them  up  into  White  Hall,  and  into  the  Queen's  presence,  where  all  the  ladies 
walked,  talking  and  fiddling  with  their  hats  and  feathers,  and  changing  and 
trying  one  another^s  by  one  another's  heads,  and  laughing.   I  lut  it  was  the  finest 
sight  to  me,  considering  their  great  beautys  and  dress,  thai  ever  I  did  see  all 
la  my  Ufe.    But  above  all  Mrs.  Stewart  in  this  dress  with  her  hat  cocked  and 
a  red  plume." 


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■iij^kf 


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Iliyijf  ««MMM*HIMMMMM|M 


182 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


THE   QUEEN'S   ILLNESS 


1S3 


left  all  the  world  but  him,  which  hath  very  much  afflicted 
his  Majesty,  and  all  the  Court  with  him."  De  Gramont 
hints  that  the  King's  grief  was  insincere  and  had  anything 
but  the  result  he  desired  ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  was 
genuine,  at  the  moment,  and  that  there  is  more  truth  than 
usual  in  Waller's  lines : 

"He  that  was  never  known  to  mourn, 
So  many  kingdoms  from  him  torn, 
His  tears  reserved  for  you,  more  dear, 
More  prized,  than  all  those  kingdoms  were ! 
For  when  no  healing  art  prevailed, 
When  cordials  and  elixirs  failed, 
On  your  pale  cheek  he  dropped  the  shower, 
Revived  you  like  a  dying  flower." 

Not   only   grief,  but   also   shame   and    remorse   perhaps 
contributed   to  the  King's  emotion  at  his  wife's  bedside. 
"  La  nuit  de  vendredi  ou  samedi  la  Reine  pensa  mourir  ; 
elle  re^ut  la  viatique,  fit  son  testament,  et  se  fit  couper  les 
cheveux  apr^s  avoir  donne  ordre  a  ses  affaires  domestiques. 
Le  Roi  se  jetta  a  ses  genoux  fondant  en  larmes ;  elle  le 
consola  avec  beaucoup  de  tranquillite  et  de  douceur.     Elle 
le  rejouit  d'etre  bientdt  en  ^tat  de  se  pouvoir  marier  avec 
une  p"'  d'un  plus  grand  m^rite,  et  qui  put  contribuer  4 
sa  satisfaction  et  du  repos  de  I'Etat.      II  fallut  retirer  le 
Roi  de  ce  funeste  spectacle,  qui  s'6tait  attendri  jusques  a 
r^vanouissement,  tout  le  jour  se  passa  au  crainte,  le  soir  le 
sommeil  lui  donna  quelque   repos,  la  nuit  se  passa   sans 
redoublement,  et  pr^sentement  elle  est  en  meilleur  dtat." 
.  .  .  "  Je  sors  pr^sentement  de  Whitehall,  oil  j'ai  laiss6  la 
Reine  dans  un  ^tat  oh  selon  le  jugement  des  m^decins,  il 
y  a  peu  de  choses  k  esp^rer.     Elle  a  regu  I'extr^me  oncti- 
on  ce  matin.  .  .  .  Les  Portugais  sont  ici  en  fort  mauvaise 
odeur  et  TAmbassadeur  n  est  pas  exempt  de  calomnies. 
On  les  accuse,  et  lui  principalement,  d'avoir  contribu^  par 
sa  mauvaise  conduite  k  la  mort  de  la  Reine,  lui  ayant  fait 
passer  deux  nuits  sans  dormir,  Tune  k  faire  son  testament, 
et  I'autre  k  recevoir  les  adieux  de  tous  ses  domestiques. 


II  est  vrai  que,  pour  la  satisfaire,  Ton  la  laissa  trois  ou 
quatre  jours  entre  leurs  mains,  mais  le  Roi  ayant  reconnu 
qu'ils  contribuaient  k  son  mal  et  meme  qu'ils  lui  faisaient 
prendre  beaucoup  de  remedes  de  leur  pays,  rompit  ce 
commerce.  Non-obstant  les  petits  relaches  qu'elle  a  de 
temps  en  temps,  je  d^sesp^re  tout-d-fait  de  sa  personne. 
.  .  .  Le  Roi  me  paratt  fort  afflig^.  II  soiipa  n^anmoins 
hier  au  soir  chez  Mme.  de  Castlemaine  et  eut  conversa- 
tions ordinaires  avec  Mile.  Stuard  dont  il  est  fort  amou- 
reux.  L'on  parle  deJEi  de  le  marier.  Chacun  lui  donne 
une  femme  selon  son  inclination  et  il  s'en  trouve  qui  ne 
la  cherchent  pas  hors  d'Angletere." 

On  2  November,  Charles  wrote  to  Mada ne :  "  my  wife 
is  now  out  of  all  danger,  though  very  weake.  it  was  a  very 
strange  feaver,  for  she  talked  idly  four  or  five  dayes  after 
the  feaver  had  left  her,  but  now  that  is  likewise  past,  and 
she  desires  me  to  make  her  compliments  to  you  and 
Monsieur,  which  she  will  doe  herselfe,  as  soone  as  she 
gette  strength.  .  .  .  C.  R."  The  next  day  (the  5th)  the 
poor  Queen  had  to  receive  M.  de  Catten,  the  French  envoy, 
with  congratulations  on  her  recovery.  "  L<;  Roi  le  regut 
avec  beaucoup  de  satisfaction,  et  voulut  qu'il  vit  la  Reine, 
mais  comme  elle  reposoit,  et  qu'il  ^toit  d^ja  fort  tard,  la 
visite  fut  remise  au  lendemain.  Je  ne  manquai  pas  de  me 
rendre  a  I'heure  ordonnee,  et  le  Roi  nous  introduisit  dans 
la  ruelle  de  son  lit,^  et  prit  la  peine  de  faire  l<;s  complimens 
de  Votre  Majesty  et  des  Reines,  avec  asses;  de  peine,  car 
isa  maladie  I'a  rendue  tellement  sourde  c  u'elle  entend 
qu'k  force  de  crier  k  ses  oreilles,  encoie  faut-il  s'en 
approcher  de  fort  pr^z.  Elle  temoigna  beaucoup  de  satis- 
faction, et  r^pondit  en  peu  de  mots,  mais  for:  intelligibles." 

By  10  December  the  Queen  was  well  enough  for  a  little 
ball  to  be  held  in  the  privy  chamber,  that  slie  might  look 
on,  "and  though  we  had  many  of  our  goocl  faces  absent, 
yett,  I  assure  you,  the  assembly  would  not   have  been 

J?uel/e  =  narrow  passage  between  bed  and  wall,  which  Charles  once  used 
IS  the  most  private  place  possible  for  a  secret  interview  with  an  ambassador. 


ii\ 


j^piiii^wi'  mimmmmf^ 


; 


;    i 


184 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


disliked  for  beauty,  even  at  Paris  itselfe,  for  we  have  a  great 
many  young  women  come  up,  since  you  were  heere,  who 
are  very  handsome."  On  4  January,  King  and  Queen  both 
supped  at  Lady  Castlemaine*s.  On  19  May,  it  is  pleasant 
to  find  the  King  writing  to  Madame  :  "  I  have  been  all  this 
afternoon  playing  the  good  husband,  haveing  been  abroade 
with  my  wife,  and  'tis  now  past  12  a  clock,  and  I  am  very 
sleepy." 

From  1662-70  the  Queen  still  hoped  for  children,  and 
in   default  of  shrines   whither  to   make  pilgrimages,  she 
sought   physical   aids   in   the   various    watering-places   of 
England,  of  which  Bath  and   Tunbridge   were  then  the 
most  famous.     In  July,  1663,  the  Court  went  to  Tunbridge, 
"  the  place  of  all  Europe  most  rural  and  simple,  yet,  at  the 
same  time,  most  entertaining  and  agreeable.     Tunbridge 
is  the  same  distance  from  London  that  Fontainebleau  is 
from  Paris,  and  is,  at  the  season,  the  general  rendezvous  of 
all  the  gay  and  handsome  of  both  sexes.     The  company, 
though   always   numerous,   is   always  select :  since  those 
who  repair  thither  for  diversion,  ever  exceed  the  number 
of  those  who   go   thither    for  health.     Everything  there 
breathes    mirth   and    pleasures ;    constraint    is    banished, 
familiarity  is  established  upon  the  first  acquaintance,  and 
joy  and  pleasure  are  the  sole  sovereigns  of  the  place.     The 
company  are  accommodated  with  lodgings  in  little,  clean, 
and    convenient,    habitations,    that    lie     straggling    and 
separated  from  each  other,  a  mile-and-a-half  all  round  the 
Wells,  where  the  company  meet  in   the  morning.     This 
place  consists  of  a  long  walk,  shaded  by  spreading  trees, 
under  which  they  promenade  while  drinking  the  waters. 
On  one  side  of  this  walk  is  a  long  row  of  shops,  plenti- 
fully stocked  with  all  manner  of  toys,  lace,  gloves,  stockings 
and  where  there  is  raffling,  as  at  Paris,  in  the  Foire  de  St. 
Germain ;  on  the  other  side  of  the  walk  is  the  market ; 
and,  as  it  is  the  custom  here  for  every  person  to  buy  their 
own  provisions,  care  is  taken  that  nothing  offensive  appears 
on  the   stalls.     Here  young,  fair,  fresh-coloured  country 


TUNBRIDGE  WELLS 


185 


girls,  with  clean  linen,  small  straw  hats,  and  neat  shoes 
and  stockings,  sell  game,  vegetables,  flowers,  and  fruit; 
here,  one  may  live  as  one  pleases:  here  is,  likewise,  deep 
play,  and  no  want  of  amorous  intrigues.^  As  soon  as 
evening  comes,  every  one  quits  his  little  pah^ce  to  assemble 
at  the  bowling-green  ;  where  in  the  open  air,  those  who 
choose,  dance  upon  a  turf  more  soft  and  smooth  than  the 
finest  carpet  in  the  world  ...  the  Queen  even  surpassed 
her  usual  attentions  in  inventing  and  supporting  enter- 
tainments  ;  she  endeavoured  to  increase  tlie  natural  ease 
and  freedom  of  Tunbridge  by  dispensing  with,  rather  than 
requiring,  the  ceremonies  due  to  her  preser  ce. "  In  Sep- 
tember, the  Court  was  at  Bath,^  whence  Charles  writes  to 
Clarendon  :  "Bath,  8  September,  1663.  I  did  not  thinke 
It  necessary  to  answer  you  till  I  could  give  you  certaine 
information  of  the  time  my  wife  would  stay  heere,  which  I 
could  not  do  till  this  day,  it  being  the  firs:  time  she  has 
made  use  of  the  bath,  we  intende  then  god  willing  to  leave 
this  place  on  monday  next  come  sennight,  and  a  tewsday  to 
be  at  Oxford,  where  we  will  stay  till  the  monday  following  : 
my  wife  and  I  intend  to  dine  with  you  at  Cornbury  the 
day  we  come  to  Oxford,  which  I  think  suificient  trouble 
for  you,  It  would  have  beene  impossible  for  us  to  have 
layne  there  with  halfe  the  wemen  we  have,  for  you  know 
the  bagage  and  bagages  of  an  army  is  the  troublesomest 
part  of  It,  but  when  I  am  at  Oxford  I  may  from  thence  go 

Tfifil  ^«  w  Jr^'^^'^^g^  (Jusserand,  pp.  89-90,  and  Madame,  p.  145),  July, 
th^l^.      "^^  ^7t^'^  ^'  ^^^'^  '"  ^"^  ^'  --«^^»  f-'  th;y  nearly  ruinS 

dtho?t  r"'^  k'  '.  Tf/^'  ^^^  °^  '^'  ^^^'''  <^^°^>  ^  ^^^^  ^^0  we'«  there 
Tv^  f  T  T  ^r^^""^'^'  •  •  •  "  ^^'  ^""'^'^  ^'«  ^  little  vifiioUes."  So  Defoe 
TZl  TJ  "^!  u".'^''^  P'''^''  '^^'  ^°°^'  "^^  ^  gentleiaan,  has  an  agree- 
able  address,  and  behaves  with  decency  and  good  manne.s,  may    single  out 

7nZi  ^%P^^^^''  ^^^  ^.^«  '^^t  appear  engaged,  and  may  lalk,  rally,  and  say 
anythmg  decent  to  them."  /»  *«"  ^y 

Oulll  '^^^  n^'^  were  two  Baths  here,  the  King's,  or  h.rge  bath,  and  the 
men  w  ;  IT^V^'  ^^"^  ""^'^  surrounded  by  a  gallery,  whence  ladies  and 
t^rj^H?  /^'  u^^^^'''  "'^'^  °^  ^^°°^  apparently  scornei  all  costume.  In 
crir^l^  °f  the  bath  rose  a  tall  structure,  with  a  cupola,  rather  like  a  market 

rewciiil^r  vf' %  "^^^  '"^"^^  ^^^  ^*-  C^-  »  contemporary  print 
reproduced  m  Fea's  Gramont  (opp.  p.  322). 


.*4^=:*««! 


1^' 


i86  CHARLES   II   AND    HIS   COURT 

thither  and  to  Woodstocke  as  I  please  and  make  a  trayne 
accordingly.     It  is  impossible  for  me  to  go  to  Worcester 
this  time,  for  my  trayne  is  so  absolutely  nothing,  that  I 
have  no  conveniency  at  all  to  performe  such  a  iourny 
without  robing  my  wife  of  hers,  so  I  must  not  thinke  of 
that  voyage  till  next   yeare.  ...  My  wife  is  very  well 
pleased  with  the  bath  and  finds  herselfe  in  very  good  temper 
after-it,  and  I  hope  the  effects  will  be  as  she  desires,  and  so 
God  keepe  you.    For  the  Chancelour."     The  various  state- 
ments, indirect  or  otherwise,  as  to  the  queen's  incapability, 
are  fully  negatived  by  the  clearest  evidence,  from  which  it 
is  enough  to  quote  Charles'  own  statement  to  Madame : 
"  My  wife  miscarried  this  morning."     But  later  in  the  reign 
the  Queen  despaired  of  children,  especially  as  the  King 
neglected  her  more  and  more  for  the  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth.   Ruvigny  tells  Louis  XIV  that  the  Queen's  con- 
solation was  her  basset-table. ^     She  never  left  the  circle  in 
the  evening,  unless  the  King  offered  his  hand  to  lead  her 
from  the  room.     She  was  often  ailing,  and  was  subject  to 
frequent    nervous    headaches.      Barillon    writes     to    his 
master :  "  Le  Roy  vint  dire  k  la  Royne  sa  femme  ce  qui 
s'etoit  passd  A  la  Chambre  haute.     Et,  pour  lui  donner 
une  marque  d'amiti6  extraordinaire,  il  s'assit  apr^s  son 
disner  dans  sa  chambre  et  y  dormit  long  temps.     Ce  qu'il 
n'a  accoustume  de  faire  que  chez  mme.  de  Portsmouth." 

In  September,  1680,  the  Queen  wrote  the  following 
letter  to  the  Duke  of  Ormond  on  the  death  of  his  son 
Lord  Ossory :  "  My  Lord  Duke  of  Ormond,  I  do  not  think 
anything  I  can  say,  will  lessen  your  trouble  for  the  death 
of  my  Lord  Ossory,  who  is  so  great  a  loss  to  the  King  and 
the  publick,  as  well  as  to  my  own  particular  service,  that 
I  know  not  how  to  express  it.  But  I  must  have  so  much 
pity  upon  you,  as  to  say  but  little  on  so  sad  a  subject, 
conjuring  you   to  believe  that  I  am.  My  Lord  Duke  of 

»  Basset  was  the  fashionable  card-game,  though  ombre  and  lanterloo  were 
also  played  :  cf.  Waller,  On  a  Card  that  Her  Majesty  tore  at  Ombre.  Basset 
was  celebrated  by  Etheredge  and  Mrs.  Centlivre* 


WALLER   ON   TEA 


187 


Ormond,  Your  very  affectionate  friend,  Catiterina  Regina." 
All  those  who  really  knew  the  Queen  spoke  of  great  good- 
ness and  kindness,  and  it  was  with  real  feeling  that  Waller 
wrote  his  little  poem,  "  Sung  by  Mrs.  Knight  to  Her  Majesty 
on  Her  Birthday,"  wherein  he  compares  her  to  her  saintly 
namesake  ;  for  it  is  clear  that  she  had  reall)'  attached  that 
courtly  poet,  from  the  number  of  poems  h-  addressed  to 
her  among  the  not  very  numerous  productions  of  his  old 
age.      Madame   speaks  of  Katherine   as    'a  very  good 
woman,  not  handsome,  but  so  kind  and  excellent  that  it  is 
impossible  not  to  love  her."     The  only  incident  that  I 
have  noticed  as  recorded  against  her,  ma>  be  explained 
simply  as  a  question  of  Court  etiquette— Place  aux  plus 
grandes  dames  :  "  I  can't  tell  if  in  my  last ':  told  you  that 
when  the  Queene  was  at  Hampton  Court  cne  day  riding 
abroad,  it   raining,  and   my  Lady  Marshill  and   Lady 
Gerrard  being  in  her  coach,  her  Majestic  came  into   y 
coach  and  called  in  the  two  Duchesses,  Bu:kingham  and 
Richmond,  and  left  the  other  ladyes  upon  f  common  to 
shift  for  themselves,  w^  you  may  beleeve  was  no  small 
griefe  to  them." 

We  are  indebted  to  Queen  Katherine  for  making  tea 
popular  in  England  ;  for  though  it  was  known  at  least  as 
early  as  1658,  her  example  set  the  fashion  for  its  use. 
Waller  writes  one  of  his  graceful  little  poems;  on 


"Tea  Commended  by  Her  Majesty  (c.  1680) 

"Venus  her  myrtle,  Phoebus  has  his  bays, 
Tea  both  excels,  which  she  vouchsafes  to  praise, 
The  best  of  queens,  and  best  of  herbs  we  owe 
To  that  bold  nation  which  the  way  did  shew 
To  the  fair  region  where  the  sun  does  rise, 
Whose  rich  productions  we  so  justly  prize. 
The  Muse's  friend,  tea  does  our  fancy  aid. 
Repress  those  vapours  which  the  head  invade, 
And  keeps  that  palace  of  the  soul  serene, 
Fit  on  her  birthday  to  salute  the  queen." 


>» 


1^ 


1 


I 


I 


i 


i88  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS  COURT 

Like  the  rest  of  the  Court  ladies,  the  Queen  was  fond 
of  "  dressing  up  "  ;   and  once  went  with  the  Duchesses  of 
Richmond  and  Buckingham,  dressed  as  country  people  in 
red  petticoats,  waistcoats,  etc.,  to  a  fair  at  Newport   in 
Essex,  near  Audley  End.     Sir  Barnard  Gascoigne,  on  a 
cart  jade,  rode  before  the  Queen,  another  stranger  before 
the  Duchess  of  Buckingham,  and  Mr.  Roper  before  the 
Duchess   of    Richmond.      They   had   all   overdone  their 
disguise,  "  and  looked  so  much  more  like   antiques  than 
country  volk,  that,  as  soon  as  they  come  to  the  faire,  the 
people  began  to  goe  after  them  ;  but  the  Queen  going  to 
a  booth,  to  buy  a  pair  of  yellow  stockings  for  her  sweet 
hart,  and  Sir  Barnard  asking  for  a  pair  of  gloves  stitched 
with  blew,  for  his    sweet  hart,  they  were  soon,  by  their 
gebrish,  found  out  to  be  strangers,  which  drew  a  bigger 
flock  about  them.     One  amongst  them  had  seen  the  Queen 
at   dinner,  knew  her,  and  was  proud  of  her  knowledge. 
This  soon  brought  all  the  faire  into  a  crowd  to  stare  at 
the  Queen.     Being  thus  discovered,  they,  as  soon  as  they 
could,  got  to  their  horses  ;  but  as  many  of  the  faire  as  had 
horses  got  up,  with   their  wives,  children,   sweetharts    or 
neighbours,  behind  them,  to  get  as  much  gape  as  they 
could,  till  they  brought  them  to  the  court  gate.     Thus,  by 
ill  conduct,  was  a  merry  frolick  turned  into  a  penance." 
Another  time  the  Queen  went  out  incognito  in  a  chair,  but 
the  chairman  not  knowing  her,  left  her,  and  she  had  to 
return  to  Whitehall  in  a  hackney  coach.    At  last  the  Queen 
was   dissuaded    from    such    adventures    by   the    Earl   of 
Manchester,  then   Lord   Chamberlain.      Fishing  was  the 
favourite  diversion  of  the  Queen  in  the  later  years  of  the 
reign,  insomuch  that  she  would  get  up  at  six  o'clock  to 
pursue  that  sport.     The  King  also  was  a  keen  fisherman, 
and  Rochester  satirized  him  as  "  Flatfoot,  the  gudgeon- 
taker." 

Tangier  and  Bombay  were  included  in  the  Queen's 
dowry,  and  at  the  same  time  Charles  sold  Dunkirk,  a  real 
advantage,  but  an   unpopular  action,  attributed   to  the 


DUTCH   WAR 


189 


Chancellor's  advice.  For  some  time  oitr  commercial 
prosperity  and  wealth  had  been  steadily  growing,  and 
watched  with  increasing  jealousy  by  the  Dutch.  In  1665, 
a  series  of  hostile  actions  on  both  sides,  broke  into  open 
and  declared  war.  The  matter  was  splendidly  fought  by 
Dutch  and  English,  and  if  our  advantage  in  the  earlier 
stages  of  the  war,  especially  in  the  great  Four  Days'  Battle, 
had  been  followed  up,  the  war  might  have  be  m  glorious  and 
successful ;  as  it  was,  disagreements  and  dis  :rusts  between 
King  and  Parliament,  incompetency  and  dishonesty  of 
officials,  at  last  led  to  such  supineness  tha:  the  Dutch  in 
June,  1667,  sailed  up  the  Med  way,  burnt  some  of  our  fleet, 
and  captured  the  "  Royal  Charles " ;  while  King  and 
courtiers  fooled  away  the  hours,  being  at  that  very  time, 
all  mad  in  chasing  a  poor  moth  in  Miss  S  :ewart*s  rooms. 
We  were  forced  to  make  peace,  though  we  gained 
Delaware,  New  Jersey,  and  New  York  in  exchange  for 
Poleroon.  The  war  produced  some  famous  pieces  of 
literature,  notably  Waller's  "Last  Instructions  to  a 
Painter"  dealing  with  the  glorious  Four  Days'  Battle  in 
June,  1665  ;  Dryden's  "  Annus  Mirabilis  "  which  discussed 
with  much  parade  of  technical  detail  the  events  of  1665-^ ; 
and  lastly,  in  1667,  MarvelFs  scathing  answer  to  Waller's 
poem,  in  which  he  displayed  all  his  minute  political  know- 
ledge in  a  way  no  doubt  intensely  galling  ai:  the  time,  but 
whose  very  effectiveness  as  a  topical  satire,  has  prevented 
its  ranking  as  a  classic,  except  in  so  far  as  it  voices  the 
general  indignation  felt  by  honest  men  at  tiie  misconduct 
of  the  war.  Marvell  in  turn  instructed  his  I  ainter  to  draw 
a  very  different  picture  from  Waller's :  and  the  idea  be- 
came so  fashionable,  especially  as  a  political  weapon,  that 
in  1680,  a  broadside  remarked  : 

"  Each  puny  brother  of  theViming  trade 
At  every  turn  implores  the  painter's  aid  ; 
And  fondly  enamour'd  of  his  own  foul  brat. 
Cries  in  an  ecstasy.  Paint  this,  Paint  thiit** 

Of  the  first  great  battle  of  the  war,  the  Xing  writes  to 


U 


/I 


■,_;l    'ittMm^V'S 


»l 


190 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


U 


Madame:  "Whithall  8  June  1665:  I  thank  God  we  have 
now  the  certayne  newes  of  a  very  considerable  victory  over 
the  Dutch ;  you  will  see  most  of  the  particulars  by  the 
relation  my  Lord  Hollis  will  shew  you,  though  I  have  had 
as  great  a  loss  as  it  is  possible  in  a  good  frinde,  poore 
C.  Barckely.^  It  troubles  me  so  much  as  I  hope  you  will 
excuse  the  shortnesse  of  this  letter,  haveing  receaved 
the  newes  of  it,  but  two  houres  agoe,  .  •  .  my  head  does 
soe  ake.  .  .  ."  On  hearing  of  Berkeley's  death,  Charles 
burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  for  he  was  his  favourite  among 
the  Court.  No  one  else  seemed  to  have  a  good  word  for 
this  nobleman,  though  Burnet  acknowledges  he  showed 
signs  of  improvement,  and  might  have  had  a  very  good 
influence  over  the  King,  if  he  had  lived.  After  his  death, 
there  was  found  in  his  closet  "  a  list  of  all  lords  and  gentle- 
men that  had  suffered  during  the  Grand  Rebellion,  and 
those  living,  and  the  successors  of  others,  were  set  down  as 
objects  of  the  King's  favour  and  advancement.  One  finds 
rarely  such  a  one  in  any  Court" 

During  the  War,  great  events  changed  the  capital ; 
the  Plague  in  1665-66,  and  the  Fire  in  1666,  helped  to 
disturb  the  machine  of  Government  The  Plague  has 
been  described  for  all  time  by  Defoe,  who  was  too  young 
at  the  time  to  remember  much  about  it,  but  had  a  wonder- 
fully vivid  imagination  and  an  insatiable  curiosity ;  and 
Pepys  gives  us  the  most  vivid  account  of  the  Fire,  on 
2  September,  1666.  "All  over  the  Thames,  with  one's 
face  in  the  wind,  you  were  calm  burned  with  a  shower  of 
fire-drops  ...  as  it  grew  darker,  the  fire  appeared  more 
and  more,  and  in  corners  and  upon  steeples,  and  between 
churches  and  houses,  as  far  as  one  could  see  up  the  hill  of 
the  City,  in  a  most  horrid  malicious  bloody  flame,  not  like 
the  fine  flame  of  an  ordinary  fire  ...  we  saw  the  fire  as 
only  one  entire  arch  of  fire  from  this  to  the  other  side  of 

^  Earl  of  Falmouth  :  he  was  struck  by  a  cannon-ball,  while  standing  on 
deck,  by  the  Duke  of  York,  so  that  his  blood  and  brains  flew  over  the  Duke. 
He  died  penniless,  through  generosity  to  old  Cavaliers.     (Clarke,  i.  397.) 


FIRES 


191 


the  bridge,  and  in  a  bow  up  the  hill  for  an  arch  of  above  a 
mile  long ;  it  made  me  weep  to  see  it.  .  .  . "    The  King 
and  the  Duke  of  York  worked  indefatigable  in  the  streets 
commanding,  encouraging,   helping,   and   advising.     The 
King  remitted    the  City's    taxes  for  a    lime,  and  was 
implored  by  the  citizens  not  to  leave  them.     The  Duke 
rode   up   and   down   with   his   guards   for  some  days  to 
maintain  order.     It  is  a  strange  fact  thai;  no  one  died 
directly  by  fire,  though  foreigners  and  Catholics  came  in 
for  much  ill-treatment,  as  being  generally  thought  authors 
of  it.     A  half-witted  Frenchman,  Hubert,  actually  gave 
himself  up  as  the  author  ;   but  the   Privy  Council  con- 
cluded, and   we   may  conclude   with   then,  that  it  was 
caused  by  "  the  hand  of  God,  a  great  wir  d,  and  a  very 
dry  season  "  ;  its  vast  extent  was  due  to  the  great  number 
of  wooden  buildings,  many  filled  with  tar,  oil,  and  other 
combustibles,  near  its  place  of  origin ;  and  the  primitive 
methods  of  repressing  fire.     North,  in  his  i^.utobiography, 
has  left  a  vivid  picture  of  a  fire  at  the  Temple  in  1678. 
"Several  great   men,  and  officers  of  the   Guards,  with 
soldiers,  came  by  direction  to  Whitehall— v»  here  the  light 
was  seen  in  its  most  terrible  posture— the  Earl  of  Craven, 
who  was  seldom  absent  on  such  occasions,  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth,  who  was  setting  up  to  be  popular,  and  the 
Eari  of  Faversham,  who,  by  adventuring  too  far  upon  a 
blowing-up,   when   it   was   thought    the   trj.in   missed,   it 
happened  to  take,  and  a  beam  fell  on  his  h  sad,  for  which 
he   was    obliged    to    undergo    the    trepan,  and    though 
dangerously   wounded,    recovered.  .  .  .  About    midnight, 
the  Lord  Mayor  and  Sheriffs  came  down,  b  at  the  gentle- 
men of  the  Inner  Temple  affronted  him,  not  owning  his 
authority  there,  according  to  old  tradition  among  them, 
and  would  want  his  help  rather  than  connive  at  such  a 
precedent   to  be   made   in    derogation  of  tlieir  liberties, 
vrhereupon   they  beat  down  the   sword,   and   would   not 
permit  it  to  be  borne  erect.     At  this  he  went  over  the  way 
to  a  tavern,  where  some  say  he  first  got  drunk,  and  then 


1| 


•! 


Pill 


If 


ill 


II, 


nMli 


MM 


192  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

returned,  dismissing  the  engine  he  met  coming  from  the 
city.     And  some  of  his  company  were   so  kind  to  say, 
'Let's  blow  *em  up   round,  and   save  Fleet   Street/  .  .  , 
All  this  while  the  fire  went  raging  in  all  the  buildings 
about  Pump  Court,  the  south  of  Elm  Court,  towards  the 
cloisters  and  the  church,  with    an   incredible  fury.     The 
chambers   were   small  and   so   full  of  deal  that  a  pitch 
barrel  could  not  bum   fiercer.     I   could   perceive   in   the 
chambers  at  their  first  lighting  a  faint  fire,  which  was  still 
more  obscured  by  smoke,  and  at  last  the  heat  melted  the 
glass  of  the  windows,  which   let  in  the  wind,  and   that 
converted  all  the  smoke  into  flame,  which  came  issuing  at 
the  windows,  with  a  noise  and  fury  like  so  many  vents  of 
hell,  and  at  length  the  floors  and  roofs  firing,  the  cold 
tiles  with  the  suddenness  of  the  heat  would  make  a  strange 
noise,  crackling  and  snapping,  till  all  came  down  together, 
and  then  such  flakes  of  fire  would  rise  and  scatter  down 
the  wind  as  if  all  the  sky  were  inflamed,  and  so  drop  upon 
the  actors  as  well  as  the  spectators,  and  burnt  their  clothes 
on  their  backs  ;  the  horror  of  this  fire  was  as  great  as 
could   possibly   be   contrived   had   it    been   designed   for 
wonder,  and  no  other    instance  in  my  observation,  or 
description  of  poet  or  painter,  ever  came  near  it     And  it 
was  no  less  extreme  on  the  other  side,  for  the  cold  was 
intense  in  the  fiercest  degree  that  our  clime  admits.     The 
water  froze  in  carrying,  and  closed  the  engines  with  the 
ice  that  continually  grew  in  it.     Water  was  let  down  from 
the  street,  but  froze  and  stopped  its  own  current     Those 
that  assisted  were  all  wet  and  frozen  ;  the  flames  did  not 
heat  the  air  to  warm  such  as  were  idle.  ...  It  is  believed 
that  houses  are  often  fired  by  thieves  for  opportunities  of 
stealing  ;  this  was  not  so  ;  nor  was  any  great  execution  of 
that  kind   done   amongst   us  ;   for   the   Templers,   being 
sharpers,  were  aware,  and  suffered  no  unknown  persons  to 
meddle  in  their  business.     It  is  otherwise  in  houses  where 
women  and  children  are  frighted  and  know  not  what  they 
do,  and  give  way  to  such  thievish  impositions.     Here  it 


THE  GREAT   FIRE  193 

was  observed   that  women  and   children   s:ood   in   Fleet 

Street,  ankle  deep  in  water  (for  all  the  pipes  were  cut) 

which  in  that  pinching  cold  night  could  not  have  been  in 

such  numbers  and  so  pertinaciously  as   thay  did   unless 

their  husbands  and  friends  were  gone  in  to  steal,  and  they 

stayed   expecting   to   carry   off  the  booty.  .  .  .  This  fire 

lasted   from    11    on   Sunday   eve  till    12   text  day. 

By  noon  there  was  a  great  assembly  of  all  sorts,  spending 

their  verdicts,  which  generally  turned  into  raillery  upon 

the  Templers.     One  says,  *  What  a  world  of  mischief  this 

had  been  had  it  happened  anywhere  else ! '     Others,  'it's 

no  matter,  the  lawyers  are  rich  enough ! '  .  .  .  a  decrepid 

old  woman,  trudging  through  the  Temple  when  the  new 

buildings  were  in  some  forwardness,  stopped  ...  and  saw 

the   scaffolding  poles   raised,   and   men   evdry   where    at 

work  ;  '  Well,'  said  she,  '  I  see  ill  weeds  will  grow  fast ! '  " 

In  the  Great  Fire,  89  churches  were  destroyed,  and 

above  12,000  houses.     Evelyn  promptly  dre\/  up  plans  for 

rebuilding  the  City,  which  were  favourably  received,  but 

afterwards    neglected,   at    Court,   and   a   je -ry-built '  city 

sprang  up  with  amazing  rapidity,  and  in  msny  cases  with 

no  improvement.     The  next  chapter  shall  attempt  to  give 

some  idea  of  the  state  of  London  in  Charles  IVs  reign. 


TS'  m 


ft- 


II 


>  r 


'1 


CHAPTER  VI 
LONDON 

"  Lord,  what  a  power  of  brave  signs  are  here." 

Wycherley,  Country  Wife. 

London  under  Charles  II— Streets,  taverns,  shopping,  travelling, 
holidays,  amusements— Dress  and  fashions— Games- Furniture. 

LONDON    was    then    a  walled    city,   with    gates 
locked  at  night,  and  ill  roads,  almost  unlighted 
after  dark.     Link-boys  had  to  be  hired  or  links 
bought,  and  even  then,  if  late  or  in  lonely  streets,  a  man 
on  foot  was  liable  to  be  attacked  by  footpads,  rogues  with 
cudgels,  and  the  like,  more  especially  in  the  disorder  and 
confusion  of  the  ruined  streets  after  the  Fire.    Meadows 
and  streams  pleasantly  diversified  the  suburbs  immediately 
outside  the  walls,  and  a  dweller  in  the  City  could  rise 
in  the  morning  and  take  the  air,  pluck  a  nosegay,  or  wash 
her  face  in  May-dew,  before  breakfast.     People  of  rank  or 
important  official  station  either  provided  themselves,  or 
were  provided,  with  armed  escorts  to  and  from  places  out- 
side the  City,  such  as  the  "  Angel "  at  Islington,  on  account 
of  the  footpads  and  highwaymen.     Were  not  these  the 
days  of  Claude  Duval?    Within  the  walls  at  night  few 
people  were  to  be  met,  except  in  the  small  hours  of  the 
morning  during  the   Plague,   when  the  death-cart  with 
its  monotonous  and   doleful  bell   moved   from  red-cross 
door  to  door  with  the  cry  "  Bring  out  your  dead."     Still  a 
grumbler  or  a   light   sleeper  could   find  some  noises  at 
night :  the  bells  of  a  solemn  funeral,  starting  about  eleven 


THE  STREETS  195 

o'clock,  the  bellman  teUing  the  hour  and  the  state  of 
weather-"  Past  one  o'clock,  and  a  cold,  frosty,  windy 
mornmg,"  and  repeating  worse  rhymes  than  a  cast  poet 
of  the  nursery  could  make;  those  rogues  thit  wake  people 
with  their  barbarous  tunes,  and  upon  their  tooting  instru- 
ments make  a  more  hellish  noise  than  the}'  do  at  a  Play- 
house  when  they  flourish  for  the  entrance  o^  witches-and 
a  little  later  the  street-cries  beginning. 

Earlier  on  the  evening,  occasional  lighls  are  cast  on 
the  streets  from  tavern  red  lattices,  from  within  which 
float  sounds  of  mirth,  drunken  or  more  seemly,  mingled 
with  the  music  of  a  club,  or  the  droning  of  a  literary 
society  wise  enough  to  keep  up  its  existence  by  wine  and 
good  fellowship.  Often  a  door  is  burst  o|,en,  and  men 
stagger  forth  in  various  strange  guises,  occssionally  stark 
naked,  only  to  fall  foul  of  the  watch  and  afterwards  of  the 
magistrates,  always  supposing  that  they  ha,  e  not  escaped 
by  slaying  or  grievously  wounding  the  officers  of  peace. 
Methinks  tis  as  pretty  an  honest,  drinking,  whoring  age 
as  a  man  would  wish  to  live  in!  The  streets  are  full  of 
mud  in  wet  weather,  of  thick  and  choking  dust  in  dry 

on  which  the  hackney  coaches  rattle,  and  waggons  roar 
and  thunder,  till  distracted  citizens  welcome  Jie  sight  of  a 
passing  sedan-chair  with  only  the  steady  tramp  of  bearers 
to  mark  its  passage.    At  rare  intervals  passes  the  glass 
coach  of  some  fine  lady  or  lord,  stared  upon  by  a  gaping 
crowd.     In  many  of  the  streets,  the  top  sto-ies  of  houses 
nearly  meet,  and  the  whole  way  is  darkened  by  monstrous 
swinging  signs,  by  poles  with  party-colourei  bands  and 
brass  basins,  by  golden  lions,  griffins,  and  elephants,  by 
hogs  in  armour,  by  portraits  of  His  Sacred  Majesty,  or 
Pictures  of  the  Sacred  Tree  which  preserved  his  life  •  by 
Crowns  and  Rasps,  by  Angels,  Black  Boys,  and  Globes - 
each  sign   or  figure  striving  to  outdo  its  neighbour  in 
attractiveness  and  size,  in  the  elaborateness  ol"  its  painting 
or  carving,  and  frequently  setting  forth  rhymes,  for  such  as 


i' 
I' 


.'    ; 


196  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

can  read,  over  or  under  the  picture :  such  as  at  Mr.  Farr's 
shop,  "  The  Best  Tobacco  by  Farr,"  and  at  his  rival's  over 
the  way,  "  Far  better  Tobacco  than  the  Best  Tobacco  by 
Farr,"  and  so  on.  These  signs,  swinging  on  their  creaking 
hinges,  while  aflfording  a  weather  sign  by  this  very  noise, 
add  to  the  extraordinary  din  which  pervades  the  streets, 
not  so  much  a  dull  and  continuous  roar,  but  a  confusion 
of  all  shrill,  harsh,  grating,  rattling,  thundering,  and  rushing 
noises,  mingled  with  street-cries  of  "Oranges,  who'll  buy 
my  chaney  oranges,  my  dill  and  cucumbers  to  pickle, 
prentices*  touting  cries,  carters*  oaths,  porters'  and  water- 

men's  shouts. 

In  the  taverns,  not  only  the  guest  rooms  had  special 
names,  but  also  the  very  tankards,  and  everything  was  at 
once  more  homely  and  picturesque  than  at  present,  though 
the  city  taverns  could  not  compare  for  comfort  and  luxury 
with  some  of  the  provincial  inns  on  great  roads.    Breakfast, 
not  being  a  regular  meal,  usually  consists  of  a  mornmg 
draught  at  a  tavern,  taken  perhaps  with  a  bunch  of  radishes 
or  somewhat  else.     Dinner  comes  about  twelve,  either  at 
home  or  at  a  tavern  such  as  the  "Leg"  in  King  Street 
Westminster.     Supper  is  fairly  early  for  the  citizen,  though 
it  may  be  as  late  as  eleven  o'clock  for  the  courtier  ;  if  not 
at  home,  it  may  be  eaten  at  Whitehall  with  the  King  or 
the  reigning  favourite ;  or,  by  a  citizen,  at  Vauxhall,  or 
'    Spring  Gardens,  to  the  accompaniment  of  music,  or  if  that 
be  still,  to  the  dying  fall  of  the  nightingale's  strains. 
Hither  you  may  come  and  spend  much  or  nothing  ;  walk, 
flirt,  drink,  or  take  your  pleasure  in  listening  to  the  harp, 
Jew's  harp  and  fiddle,  or  in  looking  upon  the  gallant  array 
of  people.     If  vanity  possesses  you,  you  may  retire  to 
Sir  Samuel  Moreland's  summerhouse  built  all  of  looking- 
glass,  covered  with  Cornish  slate,  topped  by  a  punchmello 
holding  a  dial,  and  fitted  with  fountains.     Collations  may 
be  taken  at  a  cabaret  in  the  midst  of  the  gardens,  of  neats 
tongues,  powdered  beef,  and  bad  Rhenish,  trifling  tarts, 
and  the  like,  while  the  company  may  often  be  stricken 


SHOPS 


197 


into  mirth  by  the  sight  of  a  dripping  ccuntry  put,  who 
has  trod  upon  the  spring  from  which  the  gardens  derive 
their  name,  and  drenched  himself  by  letting  oose  a  fountain. 
These  gardens  are  set  with  lawns,  gravel  walks,  arbours, 
and  hedges  of  gooseberry  bushes  and  roses. 

Passing  from  one  part  of  London  to  another  by  land  is 
so  objectionable,  that  the  journey  is  made  as  often  as 
possible  by  water,  where  your  waterman,  if  you  be  a  lord 
or  a  parliament  man,  will  ply  you  with  questions  on  la 
haute  politique.  Most  people  leave  the  boat  at  London 
Bridge,  rather  than  shoot  its  roaring  and  perilous  arches. 
The  watermen  tout  eagerly  for  custom  at  the  river  stairs, 
crying  "Oars,  oars,  who  wants  a  boat  to  Vauxhall,"  and 
so  forth.  At  the  shop-doors  still  stand,  a  s  in  the  days  of 
Elizabeth,  the  apprentices  crying  "  What  d'ye  lack  ? "  and 
these  same  stout  lads  still  rally,  for  a  PDpe-burning,  an 
expedition  to  break  windows  of  bawdy  liouses,  Shrove- 
Tuesday  football  in  the  streets,  or  at  the  cry  of  "  Clubs  for 
Prentices!"  But  shops  are  in  a  transition  stage  to  the 
modern  type:  they  are  becoming  a  fashionable  resort 
at  certain  times  of  day ;  ladies  frequent  the  mercers, 
haberdashers  and  toy-shops,  gentlemen  the  armourers, 
goldsmiths,  and  booksellers.  The  Old  and  New  Exchange 
are  crammed  with  people  of  all  ranks  from  the  highest  to 
the  lower-middle  class,  in  the  morning  and  early  afternoon. 
The  Old  Exchange,  on  Cornhill,  contains  on  the  ground 
floor,  the  place  where  the  merchants  assemble  to  do 
business ;  and  over  this,  four  spacious  galleries,  in  which 
are  many  shops  of  different  kinds,  even  better  than  those 
of  the  New  Exchange  in  Covent  Garden  which  has  two 
long  double  galleries,  one  above  the  other,  in  which  are 
distributed  in  eight  rows,  many  rich  shc»ps  of  drapers, 
mercers,  filled  with  goods  of  all  kinds  and  qualities.  These 
are  for  the  most  part  kept  by  women  well-dressed  and 
busily  employed,  but  not  without  chances  of  flirtation  with 
passers-by,  and  crying  at  intervals,  "  What  d'ye  buy  ?  what 
d'ye  buy,  gentlemen  ?  gloves,  ribbons,  and  es  jences ;  ribbons. 


' 


^•1 


i*' 


198 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


DRESS 


199 


) 


t  i 


ii 


'I 


gloves,  and  essences? — scent  your  eyebrows  and  periwig 
with  a  little  essence  of  orange  or  jessamine."  Assignations 
are  frequently  made  and  arranged  at  such  shops. 

The  citizens'  amusements  are  principally  fencing- 
matches,  cock-fighting,  bear  horse,  and  bull  baitings, 
puppet-shows  and  the  theatres.  On  holidays  the  suburb 
fools  trudge  to  Lamb's  Conduit  or  Tottenham  ;  your 
sprucer  sort  of  citizens  gallop  to  Epsom  ;  your  mechanic 
gross  fellows,  shewing  much  conjugal  affection,  strut  before 
their  wives,  each  with  a  child  in  his  arms,  to  Islington  or 
Hogsden  ;  your  jack-in-office  sets  forth  to  the  country 
for  a  dish  of  cream  and  cherries.  A  poor  lady  and  her 
waiting-woman,  not  suffered  to  go  abroad  by  a  strict  father, 
may  bewail  themselves  that  they  cannot  go  to  Punchinello 
or  Paradise ;  nor  take  a  ramble  to  the  Park  nor  Mulberry 
Garden,  nor  to  Totnam-Court,  nor  to  Islington,  nor  eat  a 
syllabub  in  New  Spring  Garden  with  a  cousin,  nor  drink 
a  pint  of  wine  with  a  friend  at  the  "  Prince  "  in  the  "  Sun," 
nor  hear  a  fiddle  in  good  company,  nor  hear  the  organs 
and  tongs  at  the  "  Gun  "  in  Moorfields. 

Dress,  immediately  after  the  Restoration,  burst  into  a 
wild  and  joyful  efflorescence  after  the  "close  time"  of 
the  Commonwealth,  an  eflflorescence,  largely  of  ribbon, 
which  appeared  wherever  possible.  The  men  wear  "  short 
coats  and  slit  sleeves,  shewing  much  linen ;  ruffled  petti- 
coat, or  long  wide  breeches,  adorned  with  cannons  or  frills 
of  lace  or  ribbons  at  the  knees,  lace  cravats,  broad-brimmed 
feathered  hats,  small  cloaks,  shoes  square-toed,  high-heeled, 
and  tied  with  long-ended  bow  of  ribbon.  The  ladies  have 
short  slit,  be-ribboned  sleeves,  low-necked  bodices,  full 
skirts,  usually  of  satin."  In  1667,  the  King  announced  his 
intention  of  breaking  away  from  the  French  fashion  of 
dress,  and  assuming  the  Persian  style,  "a  long  cassocke 
close  to  the  body  of  black  cloth  and  pinked  with  white 
silk  under  it,  and  a  coat  over  it,  and  the  legs  ruffled  with 
black  ribband  like  a  pigeon's  legs."  The  King  soon 
decided  that    black   and    white    made  them    look    like 


magpies,  and  took  to  an  all  black  velvet  suit.     Louis  XIV 
revenged  himself  by  dressing  his  footmen  in  this  style,  and 
thus   caused    the    noblemen   who   had  bet  the   King   he 
would  not  keep  to  the  new  fashion,  to  win  their  wagers. 
Men's    gloves    were    fringed,    scented    with  jasmine    or 
orange  ;  ladies  (and  sometimes  men  also)  wore  long  gloves 
which  came  up  the  arm,  and  preferred  those  from  Martial's 
at  Paris.     Both  women  and  men  used  mu  Ts.     For  a  short 
time  after  the  Restoration  men   usually  wore  their  hair 
long,  but  periwigs  soon  came  in,  the  King  being  behind- 
hand in  this,  as  in  most  other  fashions.      Gradually  the 
periwig  assumed  a  disproportionate  place  in  daily  life,  both 
as  an  expense,  and  as  an  object  of  attention,  affection,  even 
of  veneration,  a  white  peruke  being  the  ne  plus  ultra  of 
elegance.     The  gentlemen  always  carried  special  pocket- 
combs  wherewith  to  dress  their  wigs  in  tlie  ante-room  on 
paying  a  call,  or  on  entering  the  theatre ;  and  these  combs 
were  only  more  important  than  the  side-  glass  wherewith 
they  quizzed  the  ladies  from  their  boxes,  (►r  as  they  passed 
in  the  Mall  or  the  Park.     The  wig  was  at  first  more  or  less 
even  on  the  top,  though  long  and  curly,  but  it  became 
exaggerated  in  height,  length,  and  curliness,  swelling  out 
above  into  a  great  excrescence  called  aforetop,  which  was 
made  to  wag  or  bow  portentously  when  ;i  gallant  made  a 
reverence  to  a  lady.     The  beau  monde  got  their  wigs  from 
the  famous  Parisian  perruquier  Chedreux,  and   never  put 
their  hats  on  for  fear  of  spoiling  them.     The  ladies  wore 
their  hair  for  a  time  "  in  a  peculiar  loop  on  their  foreheads, 
called  a  fore-top,  which  gave  rise  to  another  fashion,  less 
common,  called  a  faure  or  bull's  head,  b(iing  an  arrange- 
ment of  hair  on  the  forehead  like  the  close  curls  of  a  bull. 
The  loose  forehead  curls  were  called   '  favourites ' ;   the 
long  locks,  arranged  over  a  frame  to  hani^  away  from  the 
face   over   the   ears,  *  heart-breakers,'  and  those  close  to 
the  cheeks,    *  confidents.' "     Much   art  was   employed   in 
arranging — or  dyeing — the  hair  so  as  to  d  [splay  fascinating 
shades  as  the  lady  moved  her  head,   and  patches  were 


il 


fi 


200  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

much  worn.  Hardly  a  single  comedy  of  the  reign  which 
is^  at  all  concerned  with  the  upper  classes  fails  to  notice 
with  ridicule  the  slavish  copying  of  French  fashions,  and 
the  constant  use  of  French  terms  and  phrases  in  conversa- 
tion.    Butler  took  the  pains  to  write  a  satire 

On  our  Ridiculous  Imitation  of  the  French 

"...  To  make  their  breeches  fall  and  rise 

From  middle  legs  to  middle  thighs 

The  tropics  between  which  the  hose 

Move  always  as  the  fashion  goes. 

Sometimes  wear  hats  like  pyramids, 

And  sometimes  flat,  like  pipkins'  lids  ; 

With  broad  brims  sometimes,  like  umbrellas, 

And  sometimes  narrow,  like  Punch'nellos  ; 

In  coldest  weather  go  unbrac'd, 

And  close  in  hot,  as  if  th'  were  lac'd  ; 

Sometimes  with  sleeves  and  bodies  wide, 
And  sometimes  straiter  than  a  hide  ; 
Wear  perukes,  and  with  false  grey  hairs 

Disguise  the  true  ones,  and  their  years,  .  .  . 

Disdain  the  country  where  th'  were  born,  .  .  . 

To  adorn  their  English  with  French  scraps  .  .  . 

To  jemie  rightly  and  renounce 

In  the  most  pure  and  approved  of  tones  .  .  . 

To  smatter  French  is  meritorious, 

And  to  forget  their  mother-tongue 

Or  purposely  to  talk  it  wrong, 

A  hopeful  sign  of  parts  and  wit." 

In  one  particular,  however,  the  French  Ambassador  notes 
that  English  ladies  differed  from  the  French ;  silk  stockings, 
especially  green  ones,  were  worn,  with  diamond-buckled 
black  velvet  garters  below  the  knee,  but  many  ladies 
preferred  to  show  "their  white  satin  skins,  by  wearing 
none." 

Some  idea  of  the  variety  of  scents  used  by  both  sexes 
may  be  gleaned  from  the  following  inventory:  "In  a 
sappin  boxe  or  coffre,  a  little  boxe  with  twelve  little  phiales 


SCENT  AND   SNUFF 


20I 


of  Essence  of  Roses  and  six  of  Jessemin.  Ane  other  w**  a 
silver  little  box  guilded,  set  w*  turquoijies  full  of  eau 
d'ange,  and  half  a  douzen  bottels  of  essence  of  orange  ; 
a  big  bottell  of  water  of  flower  of  orange,  a  big  boxe  of 
fyne  pomode  w**  jessemin  poudre,  a  paire  of  very  great 
tables  or  trick-track,  w^  four  rame  of  paper  and  musqued 
waxe  and  black  waxe,  w^  ane  escritore  as  was  desyned." 
Widows  used  scents  different  from  those  favoured  by 
maids. 

As  they  are  here  mentioned,  it  may  hi  said  that  the 
fashions  in  wax  and  writing-paper  varied,  and  were  care- 
fully studied  by  ladies.  The  King  writ<js  to  Madame, 
28  March,  1663  :  "I  thanke  you  for  th2  wax  to  seale 
letters,  you  sent  me  by  de  Chappelles.  I  desire  to  know 
whether  it  be  the  fashion  in  France,  for  the  wemen  to 
make  use  of  such  a  large  size  of  wax,  as  th(;  red  peece  you 
sent  mee ;  our  wemen  heere  finde  the  sise  a  little  extra- 
vagant, yett  I  beleeve  when  they  shall  kuDw  that  'tis  the 
fashion  there,  they  will  be  willing  enough  1:o  submitt  to  it, 
and  so  I  am  yours,  C.  R." 

Though  by  no  means  such  a  necessary  part  of  a  man's 
dress  as  in  the  eighteenth  century,  snuff-boxes  were  carried, 
and  there  is  at  least  one  good  story  to  be  told  in  connection 
with  one.  "  A  thief  dressed  like  a  courti<;r  got  into  the 
palace  at  Newmarket,  and  picked  Lord  Arlington's  pocket 
of  a  snuff-box.  He  saw  that  the  King  was  watching  him, 
and  had  the  impudence  to  put  his  fingers  to  his  nose,  wink, 
and  then  make  off.  Presently  Charles  saw  l^ord  Arlington 
searching  in  all  his  pockets  for  his  snuff-l)ox,  and  said : 
*  You  need  not  give  yourself  any  more  trouble  about  it  ; 
your  box  is  gone,  and  I  am  myself  an  accomplice,  I 
could  not  help  it.  I  was  made  a  confidant.'"  Watches 
were  frequently  worn,  including  "  finger  wa  tches,  that  go 
just  as  you  set  them."  To  conclude  this  malter  of  appoint- 
ments, Wycherley  draws  a  contrast  between  the  dress 
of  courtiers  and  citizens:  "You  good  men  of  th' 
Exchange, 


ifi^ 


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4 


Mi 


i.i! 


202 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


"  on  whom  alone  we  must  depend,  when  sparks  to  sea  are  gone  ; 
Into  the  pit  already  you  are  come,  ^ 

*Tis  but  a  step  more  to  the  tiring-room  ;  .  .  . 
.  .  .  You  we  had  rather  see  between  our  scenes, 
Than  spendthrift  fops  with  better  clothes  and  miens  : 
Instead  of  laced  coats,  belts,  and  pantaloons, 
Your  velvet  jumps,  gold  chains,  and  grave  fur  gouns  ; 
Instead  of  periwigs  and  broad  cocked  hats, 
Your  satin  caps,  small  cuffs,  and  vast  cravats  .  .  . 
...  To  all  the  camlet  cloaks  now  in  the  pit  . 


n 


Among  the  indoor  amusements  of  the  Court,  besides 
basset  and  numerous  other  card-games,  battledore  and 
shuttlecock,  shovel-board,  crying  of  forfeits,  blind  man's 
buff,  crambo,  and  "  I  love  my  love  with  an  A,"  were 
popular. 

Finally,  before  proceeding  with  the  narrative  of  events, 
what  were  houses,  and  their  appointments  like,  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  II  ?  The  Tuscan  Duke  noticed  "a  great 
absence  of  that  gentility  which  is  practised  in  Italy ;  for 
there  are  no  forks,  nor  vessels  to  supply  water  for  the 
hands,  which  are  washed  in  a  basin  full  of  water  that 
serves  for  all  the  company ;  or  perhaps  at  the  end  of 
dinner,  they  dip  the  end  of  the  napkin  into  the  beaker 
of  water  set  before  each  guest,  and  with  this  they  clean 
their  teeth,  and  wash  their  hands."  Men  sat  at  meals 
with  their  hats  on. 

Walls  were  hung  with  stamped  Spanish  leather,  tapestry 
with  "  Landskips,"  or  "  Venice  brocatella ; "  furniture 
was  covered  with  various  materials,  green  damask  being 
fashionable  at  least  in  1670.  An  ordinary  day-room  was 
furnished  with  fauteuils  or  armed-chairs,  chairs,  tabourets 
or  stools,  sofas,  and  looking-glasses.  Earthen  and  wood 
table-ware  were  still  in  frequent  use  among  the  middle 
classes,  even  at  a  Lord  Mayor's  feast. 


ii< 


EDWARD  HYDE,   EARL  OF  CLARENDON 

AFTER   THE    TMCTl  KE    BV   SIR    IK'I  EF     l.Kl  Y 


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a 


CHAPTER  Vir 

LA   HAUTE   POLITIQUE 

**  Fair,  lovely,  great,  and  best  of  n3rmplis,  farewell ! " 

Waller,  To  the  Duchess  of  Orleans, 

Fall  of  Clarendon  — Temple  and  the  Triple  Alliance  — Am- 
bassadors—  Henrietta,  Duchess  of  Orleans  —  Treaty  of  Dover — 
Marriage  of  William  of  Orange  and  Mary  of  York— Beginnings  of 
Popish  Plot— Marvell's  "  King's  Speech." 

THE  Plague,  the  Fire,  and  the  burniag  of  the  fleet 
gave  fresh  impetus  to  the  spirit  of  Puritanism, 
Anti-Cathoh'cism,  and  discontent  ;   the  govern- 
ment looked  for  a  scapegoat,  and  naturallj^  fell  upon  the 
Earl  of  Clarendon.     He  was  hated  by  the  Commons  for 
representing  the  King  in  money  matters,  bj-  the  King  for 
supporting   the   Parliament   in   things   religious;   by   the 
people  for  **  Dunkirk,  Tangier,  and  a  barren  Queen,"  and 
his  lavish  expenditure  on  his  new  house ;   the  fleet  dis- 
asters  were  also   partly   due   to   his   mismanagement   of 
money  affairs.     The  Puritans  saw  in  him  the  chief  per- 
secutor ;  the  courtiers,  the  stiff"  and  solemn  old  cavalier.    His 
fall  was  hastened  by  the  hatred  of  Lady  Castlemaine  and 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham  ;  while  the  last  jtraw  was  the 
affair  of  Frances  Stewart.     The  King  was  remarkably  in 
love  with   this  childish  but  artful  beauty,  r.nd  when  she 
eloped  with  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  was  nore  furiously 
angry  than  he  had  ever  been  known  to  be.     He  believed 
that  Clarendon  had  known  of  her  intention  to  marry  the 
Duke,  and  had  arranged  it,  so  that  the  King  could  not 
divorce  his  wife  and  marry  her,  and  on  the  night  that 


204 


CHARLES  II  AND  HIS  COURT 


CLARENDON'S  FALL 


205 


>^ 


Frances  left  Whitehall,  Viscount  Cornbury,  Clarendon's 
eldest  son,  met  the  King  coming  out  of  her  lodgings,  "  full 
of  fury,  who  spoke  to  him  as  one  in  a  rage  that  forgot  all 
decency,  and  for  some  time  would  not  hear  Lord  Corn- 
bury  in  his  own  defence."  Clarendon  rendered  up  the 
Great  Seal  in  August,  1667,  and,  being  impeached  by 
Parliament  in  November,  fled  to  France,  where  he  lived 
for  the  rest  of  his  days,  dying  at  Rouen  in  1674,  though 
not  before  he  had  written  his  "  History  of  the  Great 
Rebellion,"  and  his  autobiography.  Charles  was  certainly 
ungrateful,  but  it  is  also  true  that,  while  Clarendon  was 
not  quite  so  fine  a  man  as  Hyde,  he  continued  to  be  Hyde 
in  the  wrong  things,  such  as  interference  with  the  King, 
haughtiness,  and  obstinacy.  He  was  wholly  unable  to 
adapt  himself  to  the  new  rSgime  ;  his  use  and  purpose  were 
fulfilled  at  and  by  the  Restoration  ;  in  the  new  age  he  was 
at  a  loss,  and  his  methods  had  become  antiquated  and,  in 
some  cases,  pernicious. 

It  was  in  these  later  stages  of  his  career  that  the 
younger  courtiers  found  it  safe  to  vent  their  dislike  by 
ridiculing  him  before  the  King,  as  when  Killegrew  or 
Buckingham  strutted  up  and  down  bearing  the  shovel  and 
bellows  for  mace  and  great  seal!  The  King  shows  his 
feelings  in  the  matter  plainly,  in  a  letter  to  Madame, 
5  March,  1668:  "  I  will  not  deny  that  naturally  I  am  more 
lazy  then  I  ought  to  be,  but  you  are  very  ill-informed  if 
you  do  not  know  that  my  Tresury  and  indeede  all  my 
other  affaires,  are  in  as  good  a  methode  as  our  under- 
standings can  put  them  into.  And  I  thinke  the  peace 
I  have  made  betweene  Spaine  and  portugal  and  the  de- 
fensive league  I  have  made  with  Holland  should  give 
some  testimony  to  the  world  that  we  thinke  of  our  interest 
heere.  I  do  assure  you  that  I  neglect  nothing  for  want 
of  pains.  If  we  faile  for  want  of  understanding,  there  is 
no  helpe  for  it.  .  .  .  I  assure  you  that  my  Lord  of  Buck- 
ingham does  not  goveme  affaires  heere.  I  do  not  doute 
but  my  Lord  Clarendon,  and  some  of  his  frinds  heere, 


will  discreditt  me  and  my  affaires  as  much  c  s  they  can,  but 
I  shall  say  no  more  upon  that  subject,  for,  if  you  knew 
how  ill  a  servant  he  has  beene  to  me,  you  >\ould  not  doute 
but  he  would  be  glad  things  should  not  go  on  smoothly, 
now  he  is  out  of  affaires,  and  most  of  the  vexation  and 
trouble  I  have  at  present  in  my  affaires  'x  owe  to  him." 
As  an  engine  of  constitutional  government,  there  seems  to 
be  more  to  be  said  for  Clarendon  than  this  ;  as  a  supporter 
of  monarchy  considerably  less  limited  than  that  of  Charles 
at  this  time,  something,  but  as  the  minister  of  a  despotism 
such  as  Charles  contemplated,  he  was  nc»t  only  useless, 
but  a  great  obstacle  to  progess.  His  removal  left  Charles 
freer  to  choose  his  own  ministers,  and  the  like ;  and  when 
"Secretary  Morrice  brought  the  Great  Scale  from  my 
Lord  Chancellor,  Bab  May  fell  upon  his  knc  es  and  catched 
the  King  about  the  legs,  and  joyed  him,  and  said  that  this 
was  the  first  time  that  ever  he  could  call  him  King  of 
England,  being  freed  from  this  great  msn."  Bab  May 
was  not  the  only  one  who  rejoiced  at  Clarendon's  disgrace. 
"This  business  of  my  Lord  Chancellor's  was  certainly 
designed  in  my  Lady  Castlemaine's  chariber;  and  that 
when  he  went  from  the  King  on  Monday  nr  orning  she  was 
in  bed  (though  about  twelve  o'clock),  and  ran  out  in  her 
smock  into  her  aviary  looking  out  into  Whi  te  Hall  garden  ; 
and  thither  her  woman  brought  her  her  nightgown ;  and 
stood  blessing  herself  at  the  old  man's  going  away;  and 
several  of  the  gallants  of  White  Hall  (of  wtiich  there  were 
many  staying  to  see  the  Chancellor's  return),  did  talk  to 
her  in  her  bird-cage,  among  others  Blancford,  telling  her 
she  was  the  bird  of  passage." 

The  King  summed  up  the  matter  in  a  letter  to  Ormond : 
"  The  truth  is,  his  behaviour  and  humour  were  grown  so 
insupportable  to  myself  and  all  the  world  e  ise  that  I  could 
no  longer  endure  it,  and  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  live 
with  it."  In  truth.  Clarendon's  dictatoricil  manner,  and 
making  "  the  King  to  trot  every  day  to  :iim,  though  he 
was  well  enough  to  visit  a  cousin,"  coincided  fatally  with 


2o6 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


the  popular  feeling  against  him  and  gave  the  King  a 
reason,  but  not  an  excuse,  for  one  of  the  worst  actions 
of  his  reign.  It  was  perhaps  well  that  he  should  have 
been  asked  to  resign,  but  force,  with  contumely,  was  un- 
forgivable. 

In  1668,  Sir  William  Temple  was  allowed  by  his  Master 
to  conclude  the  Triple  Alliance  between  England,  Holland, 
and  Sweden,  against  France,  in  order  that  Charles  might 
thus  force  Louis'  hand,  and  gain  a  high  price  for  the 
English  alliance.  Sir  William  was  an  accomplished 
diplomat,  a  polished  litterateur,  and  a  clever  gardener, 
but  he  was  no  match  for  Charles  in  state-craft.  In 
1669-70,  Charles  and  Louis,  through  Madame,  concluded 
the  "Secret  Treaty  of  Dover,"  by  which  England  and 
France  agreed  to  partition  Holland,  and  Louis  promised 
money  and  soldiers  to  Charles,  to  enable  him  to  establish 
absolutism  and  the  Catholic  religion.  This  treaty  was 
signed  in  May,  1670,  by  Clifford  and  Arlington,  the 
English  Catholic  Ministers,  and  covered  in  January,  167 1, 
by  a  sham  treaty,  to  blind  the  Protestant  members  of  the 
Cabal,  Buckingham,  Ashley,  and  Lauderdale.  In  March, 
1672,  began  the  third  Dutch  War. 

No  period,  perhaps,  of  Charles'  reign  is  more  full  of 
the  rustle  and  bustle,  the  whispering  and  mystery  of  quasi- 
political  intrigue,  than  1667-72  ;  but  the  whole  reign  is 
notable  for  the  number  of  ambassadors,  the  splendour  of 
their  receptions,  and  the  minute  accounts  which  the 
French  at  least  gave  of  all  that  they  saw  and  did.  But 
none  of  the  ambassadors  is  more  important  than  the 
King's  sister,  Henrietta  Anne,  Duchess  of  Orleans,  usually 
called  Madame.  She  was  born  at  Exeter  in  1644,  smug- 
gled out  of  the  country  in  bo3^'s  clothes,  and  spent  all  the 
rest  of  her  life  in  France,  save  for  two  visits  to  England, 
in  October,  1660,  to  March,  1661,  and  in  1670.  She  was 
loved  by  all,  French  and  English,  who  had  the  happiness 
to  know  her,  and  appreciated  by  most,  except  perhaps  her 
strange  husband  Philippe,  Due  d'Orldans,  an  effeminate 


MADAME 


207 


and  vicious  fop.  She  was,  of  course,  brought  up  a  Catholic. 
In  1659  Sir  John  Reresby  visited  Henrietta  Maria  at  the 
Palais  Royal,  and  says  that  the  young  Princess  was  "then 
aged  about  15  years,  and  used  me  with  all  the  civil  free- 
dom that  might  be,  made  me  dance  with  lier,  played  on 
the  harpsichord  to  me  in  her  Highness's  chamber,  suffered 
me  to  attend  upon  her,  when  she  walked  in  the  garden 
with  the  rest  of  her  retinue,  and  sometimes  :o  toss  her  in 
a  swing  made  of  a  cable  which  she  sat  upon,  tied  between 
two  trees,  and  in  fine,  suffered  me  to  be  present  at  most  of 
her  innocent  diversions.  The  Queen  commanded  me  to 
be  there,  as  often  as  I  conveniently  coulcL  She  had  a 
great  affection  for  England,  notwithstanding  the  severe 
usage  she  and  hers  had  received  from  it.  She  discoursed 
much  with  the  great  men  and  ladies  of  France  in  praise  of 
the  people  and  country — of  their  courage,  their  generosity 
and  good  nature — and  would  attribute  the  rebellion  to  a 
few  desperate  and  infatuated  persons,  ratiier  than  the 
temper  of  the  nation."  Just  before  Charlds'  visit  to  his 
mother  and  sister  at  Colombes  in  1659,  the  Princess's  first 
extant  letter  is  addressed  to  him :  "  I  wou  d  not  let  my 
Milord  Inchiquin  leave,  without  assuring  your  Majesty 
of  my  respect,  and  thanking  you  for  the  honour  you  do 
me,  in  writing  to  me  so  often.  I  fear  that  1  his  may  give 
you  too  much  trouble,  and  I  should  be  sorry  if  your 
Majesty  should  take  so  much  for  a  little  sister,  who  does 
not  deserve  it,  but  who  can  at  least  acknowledge  and 
rejoice  in  the  honour  you  do  her.  I  hope  the  peace  will 
give  you  all  the  happiness  you  desire,  and  then  I  shall  be 
happy,  because  of  the  love  and  respect  I  bear  your 
Majesty.  It  is  a  cause  of  great  joy  to  me,  since  it  gives 
me  the  hope  of  seeing  you,  which  is  mosi:  passionately 
desired  by  your  very  humble  servant." 

Unfortunately,  only  forty-three  of  Madane's  letters  to 
her  brother  have  been  preserved,  though  we  have  a  great 
many  more  from  Charles  to  her,  which  show  the  best 
and  most  natural  side  of  his  character ;  his  affection  for 


i 


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mtamn 


■ffi^M'*  T^TP'.^j^" 


L,4^3^; 


\«¥ 


208 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


;iii 


his  sister  was  great  and  genuine,  and  shown  unmistakably 
in  his  letters  again  and  again  :  "  The  kindnesse  I  have  for 
you  will  not  permit  me  to  loose  this  occasion  to  coniur 
you  to  continue  your  kindnesse  to  a  brother  that  loves  you 
more  than  he  can  expresse,  which  truth  I  hope  you  are  so 
well  persuaded  of,  as  I  may  expect  those  returnes  which  I 
shall  strive  to  deserve.  Deare  sister,  be  kinde  to  me,  and 
be  confident  that  I  am  intirely  yours,  C.  R.  For  my 
Deare  Sister,  the  Princesse  Henriette." 

In  October,  1660,  the  Queen-Mother  and  the  Princess 
Henrietta  visited  England,  coming  very  quietly,  Lambeth- 
way,  on  2  November.  "The  Queen  a  very  little  plain  old 
woman,  and  nothing  more  in  her  presence  in  any  respect, 
or  garb,  than  any  ordinary  woman.  The  Princess  of 
Orange  I  had  often  seen  before.  The  Princess  Henrietta 
is  very  pretty,  but  much  below  my  expectation ;  and  her 
dressing  of  herself  with  her  hair  frized  short  up  to  her 
ears,  did  make  her  seem  so  much  the  less  to  me."  The 
King  writes  in  December  across  the  Council-Table  to 
Clarendon  :  "  I  would  willingly  make  a  visite  to  my  sister 
at  Tunbridge  for  a  night  or  two  at  farthest,  when  do  you 
thinke  I  can  best  spare  that  time  ? "  C. ;  "  I  know  no 
reason  why  you  may  not  for  such  a  tyme  (two  nights)  go 
the  next  weeke,  about  Wensday,  or  Thursday,  and 
returne  tyme  enough  for  the  adiournement ;  which  yett 
ought  to  be  the  weeke  followinge.  I  suppose  you  will  goe 
with  a  light  trayne."  AT. ;  "  I  intend  to  take  nothing  but 
my  night-bag."  C, :  "  God  ?  yes,  you  will  not  go  without 
40  or  50  horse  ?  "  K, :  "  I  counte  that  parte  of  my  night- 
bag." 

After  Henrietta  Anne  became  Duchess  of  Orleans,  in 
1660,  Charles  transacted  all  his  most  important  business 
with  Louis  through  her,  ^  and  in  December,  1661,  we  find 

»  Cf.  Colbert  de  Croissy  to  De  Lionne,  14  Febraary,  1669.  **  The  King 
often  says,  that  the  only  woman  who  really  has  a  hold  on  him,  is  his  sister,  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans.  If  handsome  gifts  are  lavished  on  Madame  Castlemaine, 
his  Majesty  may  think  that,  in  spite  of  his  assertions  to  the  contrary,  we  fancy 


HENRIETTA,   DUCHESS   OF   ORI  EANS 

FROM    A    I'AINTING   AT   HARDWICK    HAl.L 


A  SAILOR  KING 


209 


Itij 


I  ^  ill 


m 


him  writing  letters  on  the  subject  of  ships  striking  their 
colours  to    English    vessels.      The   marine  privileges  of 
England,  Charies  defended  with  all  the  ardour  of  a  sea- 
king,  whose  heart  was  more  set  on  the  wide  waters  than 
on  the  land.     "  I  receaved  yours  of  the  2;'th  so  late  this 
night,  and  the  post  being  ready  to  goe,  thit  I  have  only 
time  to  tell  you  that  I  extreamly  wonder  at  that  which  you 
writ  to  me  of,  for  certainly  never  any  ships  refused  to 
strike  their  pavilion  when  they  met  any  ships  belonging 
to  the  Crowne  of  England.    This  is  a  right  so  well  known 
and  never  disputed  by  any  Kings  before,  Ihat,  if  I  should 
have  It  questioned  now,  I  must  conclude  it  to  be  a  guerelU 
d'Alkmand.      I  hope  what  you  say  to  me  is  only  your 
feares,  for  I  will  never  beleeve  that  anybody  who  desires 
my  friendship  will  expect  that  which  was  never  so  much 
as  thought  of  before,  therefore  all  I  shall  say  to  you  is, 
that  my  ships  must  do  their  dutyes,  lett  wl.at  will  come  of 
It !    And  I  should  be  very  unworthy  if  I  c(uit  a  right  and 
goe  lower  than  ever  any  of  my  predecessors  did,  which  is 
all  I  have  to  say,  only  that  I  am  very  glad  to  finde  you 
are  so  well  recovered,  and  be  assured,  my  dearest  sister 
that  I  am  intierly  yours,  C.  R."    The  King's  interest  in 
ships  has  already  been  commented  upon  md  illustrated 
and   after  the   Restoration  this  interest    still   continues! 
He  takes  peculiar  pleasure  in  experiments  relating  to 
navigation,  of  which  he  has  a  very  accurste  knowledge  • 
and  pays  great  attention  to  finding  out  what  sorts  of  wood 
require  least  depth  of  water  to  float  them,  and  what  shapes 
are  best  adapted  for  cutting  the  water,  and  for  making 
good  sailers."     The  diaries  of  Evelyn,  Pepys.  and  others, 
constantly  record  the  King's  visits  to  the'  Fleet,  and  his 
harbours,  his  yachting,  and  the  like:  for  twenty  leagues 
by  sea  were  more  pleasing  to  him  than  two  by  land.     His 
appetite  was  better  on  the  water,  it  woulc:  seem,  for  he 

htr'ol'slch''^'"fl  ""'.";^'  "  '-  ^^  P"'-     ^  ^^''"W  *"-fo«  -dvfce  giving 
undress  gown,  or  some  little  object  of  fineiy."  ""isiau 


1 


> 


ll 


III 


2IO 


CHARLES  II  AND  HIS  COURT 


took  his  meals  aboard  as  often  as  possible ;  and  he  even 
had  a  vessel  moored  by  ^^'hitehall  stairs,  whereon  to  sup 
and  dance  at  pleasure. 

In  September,  1665,  Charles  visited  Dorset,  going  from 
Salisbury,  whence  he  writes  on  the  9th  to  Madame :  "  I 
am  goeing  to  make  a  little  turne  into  dorset  sheere  for  8  or 
9  dayes  to  passe  away  the  time  till  I  go  to  Oxford, 
beleeving  that  this  place  was  the  cause  of  my  indisposition. 
.  .  .  ."  TheKingand  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  visited  Poole 
and  the  expenses  of  the  visit  were  borne  by  Peter  Hall, 
the  Mayor,  who  "  had  the  singular  honour  to  attend  his 
Majesty  at  dinner.  After  dinner  it  pleased  his  Majesty  to 
take  collector  William  Strutts'  boat  to  Brownsea  (steered 
by  the  said  collector,  and  rowed  by  six  masters  of  the 
ships),  where  His  Majesty  took  an  excellent  view  of  the 
said  island  to  his  great  contentment."  It  was  on  this 
Dorsetshire  visit,  too,  that  the  King  was  entertained  at 
Wimborne  St.  Giles  by  Lord  Ashley,  and  had  a  debauch  in 
the  cellar,  where  he  knighted  one  Edward  Hooper  for  his 
pleasantries  ;  "  in  the  event  the  whole  company  were  com- 
pletely drunk ;  his  Majesty  paid  his  obeisance  to  the  centre 
cask,  to  perpetuate  which  act  a  crown  w£is  inserted  in  the 
middle  of  the  cellar-arch."  Perhaps  it  was  here  that 
Ashley  made  the  retort  to  Charles'  remark  "  God's-fish,  I 
believe  thou  art  the  wickedest  dog  in  my  dominions." 
"  Of  a  subject,  sir,  1  believe  I  am." 

"Towards  the  latter  end  of  Summer  [1681],  the  King, 
as  he  did  often,  diverted  himself  by  going  down  the  river 
in  his  yacht,  attended  by  the  rest ;  and  by  the  care  of  his 
oflRcers  and  board  of  green  cloth,  all  meals  were  as  well 
served  as  if  at  Whitehall,  and  convenient  beds  for  those 
that  had  the  honour  to  attend.  I  was  not  until  very  few 
years  afterwards  of  the  Court ;  but,  however,  the  King  was 
pleased  to  name  me  for  to  attend  him,  and  I  had  place  in 
his  coach  to  London,  Sir  Ph.  Howard,  Captain  of  the  Life 
Guard  in  Waiting,  not  being  permitted,  by  reason  he  was 
not  a  Peer  or  Earl's  eldest  son.    The  King  went  in  his 


CHARLES'  LOVE  OF  MUSIC  211 

barge  to  Greenwich,  and  stepping  into  his  yacht,  he  told 
Mr.  Theodore  Rands,  the  Page  of  the  bed.:hamberor  back 
stairs  jn  waiting,  that  I  was  young  and  lazy,  and  ordered  him 
to  get  me  one  of  the  best  beds  under  him.    We  sailed 
to  the  Nore,   and   so  to   Chatham;  and    it   cannot*  be 
expressed,  the  satisfaction  we  had  by  eating  twice  a  day 
with  the  King,  who  was  all  mirth,  and  of  tie  most  pleasine 
conversation,   and  if  we  played  at  any  game,  he  would 
come   and  sit  by  us."    De  Comminges  gives  a  woeful 
account  of  being  taken  a  voyage  by  the  ICing.  of  his  sub- 
sequent illness,  and  of  being  mercilessly  rDused  at  six  the 
next   morning  for  another  expedition  with  his  Majesty 
The  Queen-Mother  always  had  ill-fortune  at  sea,  so  that 
Mam  s  luck  "  became  a  jest  between  Charles  and  Madame : 
Whitehall,  22  March,  1669  ..  .  [of  a  me«enger  drowned 
in   the   Channel]:  I  heare   Mam  sent  me  a   present  by 
him  which,  I  beleeve,  brought  him  the  ill  lucke,  so  she 
ought,  in  conscience,  to  be  at  the  charges  of  praying  for 
his^  soule,  for  'tis  her  fortune  has  made  the  man   mis- 

Like  niost  sailors,  the  King  loved  music,  and  encour- 
aged  vocal  and  instrumental  artistes  of  both  sexes  to  visit 
and  reside  in,  England.     "  Some  whisper  t  he  King  should 
be  a  Teutonicus  and  lover  of  chymistry.     Mr.  Brferetonl 
assures  me  his  Majesty  is  an  extraordinary  lover  of  musick 
and  mtends  to  be  entertained  with  it  every  dinner  time 
to  w    end,  a  place  for  his  musicians  shall  be  railed  in  in 
the  presence  chamber."    "  He  could  not  be.ir  any  music  to 
which  he  could  not  keep  time,  and  that  he  constantly  did 
to  all  that  was  presented  to  him,  and  for  the  most  part 
heard  it  standing."    <•  Once  he  had  a  fancy  for  a  comparison 
to  hear  the  singers  of  the  several  nations,  Germans.  Spanish, 
urt  .*f ',.      °^'''  ^""^  ^"Slish,  perform  upon  the  stage  in 
Whitehall.     The  English  brought  up  the  re,r.  under  great 
disadvantage,  with  '  I    pass  all  my  time  in  a  shady  old 
grove,    eta,  for    the  King  chose  that  sodjj  as  the  best 
others  were  not  of  his  opinion." 


212 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


Madame,  having  arranged  the  Secret  Treaty  of  Dover, 
returned  to  France ;  Charles  gave  her  6000  pistoles  as 
journey-money,  and  2000  gold  crowns  to  build  a  memorial 
chapel  to  their  mother,  and  a  fine  present  of  jewels.  The 
King  and  Duke  of  York  sailed  some  way  back  with 
Madame,  Charles  thrice  embracing  her,  while  she  wept 
bitterly.  Shortly  after  her  return,  Madame  died  suddenly, 
and  as  was  generally  suspected  at  the  time,  by  poison. 
Charles  on  hearing  the  news,  wept  passionately,  cursing 
Monsieur's  name  ;  but  later  said  to  the  messenger.  Sir 
Thomas  Armstrong,  **  Monsieur  is  a  villain.  But,  Sir 
Thomas,  I  beg  of  you,  not  a  word  of  this  to  the  others." 
The  King  wrote  in  July  to  the  Due  d'Elboeuf :  "  I  cannot 
help  thanking  you  very  warmly  for  the  sorrow  which  you 
express  at  my  sister's  death,  knowing,  as  I  do,  how  much 
she  esteemed  you.  But,  to  say  the  truth,  my  grief  for  her 
is  so  great  that  I  dare  not  allow  myself  to  dwell  upon  it, 
and  try  as  far  as  possible  to  think  of  other  things."  So 
Charles  was  deprived  of  the  last  woman  whom  he  sincerely 
loved,  and  the  only  one  who  had  ever  been  capable  of 
exercising  more  than  a  superficial  or  temporary  influence 
over  him.  Of  the  lady  who  tried  to  take  Madame's  place, 
we  shall  speak  later. 

Embassies  in  Charles'  reign  attracted  far  more  attention 
than  they  do  now,  and  the  ceremonies  at  the  entrance  of 
ambassadors  into  London  were  complicated  and  various, 
and  the  letters  of  French  ambassadors  to  Louis  XIV,  or 
his  ministers,  are  full  of  minute  questions  of  etiquette  and 
precedence,  especially  about  the  time  of  the  fray  between 
the  French  and  Spanish  ambassadors'  retinues  in  the  street, 
on  30  September,  1661.  But  the  embassies  which  excited 
most  spectacular  interest  were  those  of  the  Muscovites  in 
1662,  and  of  the  Moors  in  1682.  Before  the  arrival  of  the 
Muscovites  there  was  some  excitement  at  Court,  especially 
among  the  ladies,  as  to  the  presents  they  would  bring,  and 
perhaps  Lady  Castlemairie  is  hinted  at  in  the  following 
Council-Note:    C,\   *'You  know  you  do  now  every  day 


EMBASSIES  213 

expecte  the   Muscovite  Ambassadors,  who   bringes  with 
them  severall  valewable  toyes  as  a  present  to  you.     Now 
ther  goes  no  extraordinary  witt,  to  mike  this  discovery, 
and  to  begg  this  present  before  it  comes    I  pray  remember 
the  entertayninge  these  Ambassadors  will  be  chargeable 
to  you,  and  therfore  if  this  suite  be  mad  5  to  you,  as  sure  it 
will  be,  I  pray  say  you  are  ingaged,  and  to  keepe  it  your- 
selfe,  that  what  is  to  bee  sold,  may  discha  rge  the  esxpenses. 
I  hope  you  have  [not]  given  it  away  already."    K, :  "  You 
neede  not  have  given  me  this  caution,  ibr  I  love  to  keepe 
myselfe  warme  with  the  furrs,  and  for  ±e  other  parte  of 
the  presents  will  be  as  necessary  for  othe  r  things."    Evelyn 
'*  went  to  London  to  see  y^  entrance  of  y"  Russian  Ambass'*, 
whom  his  Ma*^*  ordered  to  be  received  with  much  stated 
the  Emperor  not  only  having  been  kind  to  his  Ma*^-  in  his 
distress,  but  banishing  all  commerce  with  our  nation  during 
y'  rebellion.     First  y«  Citty  Companies  s.nd  Train'd  Bands 
were  in  all  their  stations ;  his  Majesties  Army  and  Guards 
in   greate  order.      His   Excellency  came   in  a  very  rich 
coach,  with  some  of  his  chiefe  attendaits;  many  of  the 
rest  on  horseback,   clad  in   their  vests    after  y«  eastern 
manner,  rich  furrs,  caps,  and  carrying  tie  presents,  some 
carrymg  hawkes,  furrs,  teeth  [of  sea-hcrses],  bowes    &c 
It  was  a  very  magnificent  shew."     The  audience  on  the 
29th  "  was  in  extraordinary  state,  his  re  :inue  being  nume- 
rous, all  clad  in  vests  of  several  colours,  with  buskins  after 
y'  Eastern   manner;   their  caps   of  furr;  tunicks   richly 
embroidered  with  gold  and  pearis,  made  a  glorious  shew. 
The  Kmg  being  seated  under  a  canopie  in  y«  Banqueting- 
Hall,    the     Secretary    of   y'    Embassy    went    before  y« 
Ambassador  in  a  grave  march  holding   up  his  master's 
letters  of  credence  in  a  crimson  taffeta  scarfe  before  his 
forehead.     The  Ambassador  then  deliveied  it  with  a  pro- 
found  reverence  to  the  King,  who  gave  it  to  our  Secretary 

*»,  .*  ^^'  ^T':  "^"*'  ^'^^  ^"^  ^^  *<*  «^^^  '^ture  of  Englishmen; 
timt  cannot  forbear  laughing  and  jeering  at  every thirg  that  looks  strange," 
27  November,  1 662.  ^ 


It'.: 


^i  t 


214 


CHARLES  II   AND   HIS   COURT 


»■,,  <^ 


f  i 


of  State ;  it  was  written  in  a  long  and  lofty  style. — Then 
came  in  the  presents,  borne  by^  165  of  his  retinue,  consist- 
ing of  mantles  and  other  large  pieces  lined  with  sable, 
black  fox  and  ermine ;  Persian  carpets,  the  ground  cloth  of 
gold  and  velvet ;  hawks,  such  as  they  sayd  never  came  the 
like,"  "of  which  his  Majesty  took  two  or  three  upon  his 
fist,  having  a  glove  on  wrought  with  gold,  given  him  for 
the  purpose ;  horses  said  to  be  Persian ;  bowes  and 
arrows,  etc.  These  borne  by  so  long  a  traine  rendered  it 
very  extraordinary.  Wind  musiq  played  all  the  while  in 
y*  galleries  above.  This  finished,  y*  Ambassador  was 
convey'd  by  ye  Master  of  y*  Ceremonies  to  York  House, 
where  he  was  treated  with  a  banquet  which  cost  £200,  as 
I  was  assured."  The  Moorish  Ambassadors,  in  January, 
1682,  presented  the  King  *'with  two  lions  and  thirty 
ostriches,  at  which  his  Majesty  laughed,  and  said  he  knew 
nothing  more  proper  to  send  by  way  of  return  than  a  flock 
of  geese."  The  lions  were  sent  to  the  Tower,  the  ostriches 
to  St.  James's  Park.  Charles  may  have  been  puzzled  for 
the  moment  to  know  what  to  do  with  lions  and  ostriches, 
but  hawks  must  have  pleased  him  considerably,  as  hawk- 
ing was  a  favourite  pastime  of  his, — it  is  said,  because  of 
the  opportunities  it  gave  for  talking  to  the  ladies  in  the 
party.  In  1678  Charles  caught  a  severe  chill  by  over- 
heating himself  hawking  in  Buckinghamshire  ;  and  on 
17  March,  1681,  he  rode  hawking  across  Burford  Downs 
to  Burford.  At  that  town  he  was  met  by  the  Mayor  and 
Corporation,  who  gave  him  a  rich  silver-laced  saddle  with 
holsters  and  bridle,  worth  about  fifty  guineas.  He  dined 
with  Squire  Lenthall  at  the  Priory,  attended  the  races,  and 
went  thence  to  Cornbury  Park,  where  he  stayed  the  night 
as  Lord  Clarendon's  guest; ;  after  dinner  the  next  day  he 
hawked  across  country  again  through  Wychwood  Forest 
to  Woodstock  Plain,  where  his  coach  met  him  at  Camps- 
field  and  took  him  back  to  Oxford,  in  time  for  the  opening 
of  Parliament. 

The  nation   and    Parliament   in    1672  would    not   be 


MARRIAGE  OF  MARY   OF  YORK        215 

persuaded  into  taking  interest  in  the  Third  Dutch  War, 
especially  as  we  were  allied  with  France,  and  little  was 
effected  except  a  Revolution  in  Holland,  which  placed 
William  of  Orange  at  the  head  of  affairs,  and  consequently 
lessened  Charles*  interest  in  hostilities,  and  made  peace  all 
the  easier  in  1674.  Parliament  meanwhile  destroyed  the 
foundation  of  the  King's  French  Catholic  Plot  by  the  Test 
Act  and  the  Dissolution  of  the  Cabal  or  Council  of 
Ministers  formed  by  the  King.  Charles  wisely  abandoned 
Catholicism  politically,  and  took  to  Anglicanism,  his 
brother  taking  his  place  as  Catholic  leader  and  head  of 
the  real  Popish  Plot.  Sir  Thomas  Osborne  was  made 
Earl  of  Danby  and  Prime  Minister.  H<:  was  strongly 
Anglican  and  hostile  to  France,  and  brought  about  the 
marriage  of  Mary  of  York  and  William  of  Orange  in  1677. 
This  marriage,  politically  so  good,  was  at  first  distasteful 
to  the  bride  and  her  father  ;  and  when  Charies  heard  that 
James  objected  and  had  said  that  his  brother  had  promised 
he  would  not  get  either  of  the  Princesses  married  without 
their  father's  consent,  he  merely  ejaculated,  "Od's  fish,  he 
must  consent."  On  21  October  the  Duke  of  York  dined 
at  Whitehall,  and  afterwards  returned  to  St.  James',  took 
Lady  Mary  into  her  closet  and  told  her  of  the  proposed 
marriage ;  "  whereupon  her  highness  wept  all  that  after- 
noon and  the  following  day."  On  4  Novemlier,  at  9  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  the  marriage  took  place  in  her  highness's 
bedchamber.  '*The  King,  who  gave  her  c.way,  was  very 
pleasant  all  the  while ;  for  he  desir'd  that  the  Bishop  of 
London  would  make  haste,  lest  his  sister  should  be 
delivered  of  a  son,  and  so  the  marriage  be  disappointed  ; 
and  when  the  prince  endow'd  her  with  sll  his  worldly 
goods,  he  willed  her  to  put  all  up  in  her  pcckett,  for  'twas 
clear  gains.  At  eleven  o'clock  they  went  to  bed,  and  his 
Majesty  came  and  drew  the  curtains,  and  said  to  the 
Prince,  *  Now,  nephew,  to  your  worke.  H<y !  St.  George 
for  England.'  On  16  November,  the  wind  being  easterly, 
their  highnesses  were  still  detain'd  at   St.  James'.     This 


u 


\l 


2l6 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


day  the  Court  began  to  whisper  the  prince's  sullennesse,  or 
clownishnesse,  that  he  took  no  notice  of  his  princesse  at 
the  play  and  balle,  nor  came  to  see  her  at  St.  James*,  the 
day  preceding  this  desired  for  their  departure.    On  the 
morning  of  19  November  about  9  o'clock,  the  wind  being 
westerly,  their  highnesses,  accompanied  with  his  Majesty, 
and  his  Royal  Highness,  took  barges  at  Whitehall,  with 
several    other   persons   of   quality.      The    Princess  wept 
grievously  all  the  morning,  required  the  Duchess  of  Mon- 
mouth to  come  often  to  her  sister,^  to  accompany  her  to 
the  chappie  the  first  time  she  was  able  to  appeere  there, 
and  to  think  often  on  her  ;  shee  left  also  two  letters  to  be 
delivered  to  her  sister  as  soon  as  shee  was  recovered.   The 
Queen  observing  her  highnesse  to  weep  as  she  took  leave 
of  her  Majesty,  would  have  comforted  her  with  the  con- 
sideration of  her  own  condition  when   shee  came  into 
England,  and  had  never  till  then  seen  the  King  ;  to  whom 
her  highness  presently  replied,  'But,  madam,  you   came 
into  England  ;  but  I  am  going  out  of  England.'     They  all 
dined  at  Elif  [=  Erith],  and  his  Majesty  and  Royal  High- 
nesse went  with  them  in  sight  of  Gravesend,  and  returned 
to   Whitehall   about   6   o'clock."      The    Prince's   natural 
moroseness    was    increased    towards    his    bride,   as    the 
marriage  was  sprung  upon  him,  without  his  wish  or  in- 
tention at  that  time.     On   his  visit  to  England  in  1670, 
he  was  apparently  more  lively,  being  "  a  young  man  of  the 
most  extraordinary  Understanding  and  Parts,  besides  his 
quality  and  birth  that  makes  him  shine  the  better."     "  He 
has  a  manly,  courageous,  wise  countenance,  resembling  his 
mother  and  the  Duke  of  Gloucester."    "At  a  supper  given 
by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  the  King  made  him  drink 
very  hard  :  the  Prince  was  naturally  averse  to  it,  but  being 
once  entered,  was  more  frolic  and  gay  than  the  rest  of  the 
Company;   and   now  the   mind   took  him   to  break  the 
windows    of  the  chambers    belonging    to   the   maids    of 
honour,  and  he  had  got  into  their  apartments,  had  they 

*  Princess  Anne. 


THE   KING'S   SPEECH 


217 


not  been  timely  rescued.  His  mistress,  I  suppose,  did  not 
like  him  the  worse  for  such  a  notable  indication  of  his 
vigour." 

By  the  Non-Resisting  Bill  of  1675,  no  one  was  to  sit 
in  either  House  till  he  had  sworn  to  alter  nothing  in  the 
Church  and  State  ;  and  this  was  violently  opposed  by 
Shaftesbury  and  the  Country  Party,  who  tried  to  force  a 
dissolution,  since  their  hopes  lay  in  a  new  general  election. 
Shaftesbury  made  an  illegal  motion  in  Parliament,  that  it 
was  no  longer  a  legal  assembly,  referring  to  an  obsolete 
statute  enjoining  annual  Parliaments.  For  this  he  was 
sent  to  the  Tower,  whence  he  emerged  in  i6'/S,  to  find  his 
party  in  bad  case  ;  they  were  helped,  however,  by  the  rising 
of  Titus  Oates  and  the  Popish  Plot. 

Before  passing  on  to  consider  the  "  reign  of  terror,"  as 
it  has  been  called,  Marvell's  mock  King's  spe.xh  to  Parlia- 
ment in  1675  is  too  good  to  omit:  "April  y«  13,  1675: 
My  Lords  and  Gentlemen,— -I  told  you  at  oui  last  meeting 
that  the  winter  was  the  fittest  time  for  business,  and  in 
truth  I  thought  so  till  my  Lord  Treasurer  ass  ured  me  that 
y"  Spring  is  y«  fittest  time  for  salads  and  subsi  dies.  I  hope 
therefore  this  April  will  not  prove  so  unnatural  as  not  to 
afford  plenty  of  both ;  some  of  you  may  perhaps  think  it 
dangerous  to  make  me  too  rich,  but  do  not  fea*  it,  I  promise 
you  faithfully  (whatever  you  give)  I  will  take  care  to  want ; 
and  yet  in  that  you  may  rely  upon  me,  I  will  never  break 
it  although  in  other  things  my  word  may  l)e  thought  a 
slender  authority.  My  Lords  and  Gentlemen,  I  can  bear 
my  own  straights  with  patience,  but  my  Lord  Treasurer 
doth  protest  that  the  revenue  as  it  now  stanc  s  is  too  little 
for  us  both  ;  one  of  us  must  pinch  for  it,  if  you  do  not  help 
us  out.  I  must  speak  freely  to  you,  I  am  under  encum- 
brances ;  for  besides  my  whores  in  service,  ny  reformed 
ones  lie  hard  upon  me.  I  have  a  pretty  gXKi  estate,  I 
must  confess,  but,  Odd's  fish,  I  have  a  charge  on  't.  Here 
is  my  Lord  Treasurer  can  tell  you  that  all  the  moneys 
designed  for  the  Summer's  Guards  must  of  necessity  be 


1 


2l8 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


applied  for  the  next  year's  cradles  and  swaddling  clothes  ;  * 
what  then  shall  we  do  for  ships  ?  I  only  hint  that  to  you, 
thafs  your  business,  not  mine.  I  know  by  experience  I 
can  live  without  them  ;  I  lived  twenty  years  abroad  without 
ships  and  was  never  in  better  health  in  my  life,  but  how 
well  you  can  live  without  them  you  had  best  try.  I  leave 
it  to  yourselves  to  judge,  and  therefore  only  mention  it  I 
do  not  intend  to  insist  upon  that 

**  There  is  another  thing  which  I  must  press  more 
earnestly,  which  is  this ;  it  seems  a  good  part  of  my 
revenue  will  fail  in  two  or  three  years  except  you  will 
please  to  continue  it,  now  I  have  this  to  say  for  it,  why  did 
you  give  me  so  much  except  you  resolved  to  give  on  as 
fast  as  I  call  for  it?  The  nation  hates  you  already  for 
giving  so  much,  I  will  hate  you  now  if  you  do  not  give  me 
more.  So  that  your  interest  obliges  you  to  stiqk  to  me  or 
you  will  not  have  a  friend  left  in  England.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  you  continue  the  revenue  as  desired,  I  shall  be 
able  to  perform  those  great  things  for  your  religion  and 
liberty  which  I  have  long  had  in  my  thoughts  but  cannot 
effect  it  without  this  establishment,  wherefore  look  to  it,  if 
you  do  not  make  me  rich  enough  to  undo  it  it  shall  be 
at  your  doors ;  for  my  part  I  can  with  a  clear  conscience 
say  I  have  done  my  best  and  shall  leave  the  rest  to  my 
successors.  But  if  I  may  gain  your  good  opinion,  the  best 
way  is  to  acquaint  you  what  I  have  done  to  deserve  it  out 
of  my  royal  care  for  your  religion  and  property.  For  the 
first  my  late  proclamation  is  the  true  picture  of  my  mind. 
He  that  cannot  (as  in  a  glass)  see  my  zeal  for  the  Church 
of  England  doth  not  deserve  any  other  satisfaction,  for  I 
declare  him  wilful,  abominable,  and  not  good.  You  may 
perhaps  cry  how  comes  this  sudden  change  ?  To  that  I 
reply  in  a  word,  I  am  a  changeling;  that  I  think  a  full 
answer,  but  to  convince  men  yet  further  that  I  mean  as  I 
say,  there  are  these  arguments — ist.  I  tell  you  so  and  you 

^  Cf.  Buckingham's  remaik,  when  a  suitor  styled  the  King  **  the  father  of 
his  people,"  **  Of  a  good  many  of  them. ' 


POPULAR  PREFERMENTS  219 

know  I  never  break  my  word.  2nd.  My  Lord  Treasurer 
says  so  and  he  never  told  lies  in  his  life.  3rd.  My  lord 
Laudersdale  will  undertake  for  me,  and  I  should  be  loth 
by  any  act  of  mine  to  forfeit  the  credit  he  1  as  with  you. 
If  you  desire  more  instances  of  my  zeal,  I  have  them  for 
you ;  for  example,  I  have  converted  all  my  natural  sons 
from  popery,  (and  I  may  say  without  vanity]  it  was  more 
my  work  and  much  more  peculiar  to  me  tha  1  the  getting 
of  them.  It  would  do  your  hearts  good  to  hear  how 
prettily  little  George  can  read  already  the  Psalter ;  they 
are  all  fine  children,  God  bless  'em,  and  so  like  me  in  their 
understandings.  But  (as  I  was  saying)  I  h^.ve  to  please 
you,  given  a  pension  to  your  favourite  my  Ld.  Lauderdale  ; 
not  so  much  that  I  thought  he  wanted  it,  as  I  knew  you 
would  take  it  kindly.  I  have  made  Carwell  a  Duchess  and 
married  her  sister  to  my  Lord  Pembroke.  I  have  made 
Crewe  Bishop  of  Durham.  I  have  at  my  brother's  request 
sent  my  Lord  Inchiquin  to  settle  the  Protestant  religion 
at  Tangier ;  and  at  the  first  word  of  my  Lad)-  Portsmouth 
I  preferred  Prideaux  to  be  Bishop  of  Chichester.  I  do 
not  know  what  factious  men  would  have ;  b  at  this  I  am 
sure  of,  that  none  of  my  predecessors  ever  did  anything 
like  this  to  gain  the  goodwill  of  their  subjects.  So  much 
for  religion.  I  must  now  acquaint  you  that  by  my  Lord 
Treasurer's  advice  I  have  made  a  consideralMe  retrench- 
ment on  my  expenses  in  candles  and  charcoal,  and  do  not 
intend  to  stick  there,  but,  with  your  help,  to  look  into  the 
like  embezelments  of  my  dripping  pans  and  Kitching 
Stuff,  of  which  (by  the  way)  on  my  conscience  j  neither  my 
Lord  Treasurer  nor  my  Lord  Lauderdale  are  guilty ;  but 
if  you  should  find  them  dabbling  in  that  business  I  tell  you 
plainly  I  leave  them  to  you,  for  I  would  cot  have  the 
world  think  I  am  a  man  to  be  cheated. 

"  My  Lords  and  Gentlemen, 

"  I  would  have  you  believe  of  me  as  you  always 
found  me ;  and  I  do  solemnly  profess  that,  whatever  you 


f 


I'j 


%• 


give  me,  it  shall  be  managed  with  the  same  thrift,  trust, 
conduct,  and  prudence  and  sincerity,  that  I  have  ever 
practised  since  my  happy  restoration.' 

This  speech  was  printed  and  strewn  about  the  House 
on  the  first  day  of  Session,  13  April,  1675  ;  and  no  one 
laughed  more  over  it  than  Charles. 

Note. — In  the  Antiquary  for  1910  are  interesting  articles  on  the 
Embassies  in  this  reign. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE    POPISH    PLOT 

*'  That  Plot,  the  nation's  curse, 
Bad  in  itself,  but  represented  worse, 
Raised  in  extremes,  and  in  extremes  decried, 
With  oaths  affirmed,  with  dying  vows  denied, 
Not  weighed  or  winnowed  by  the  multitude, 
But  swallowed  in  the  mass,  unchewed  and  crude ; 
Some  truth  there  was,  but  dash'd  and  brew'd  with  lie». 
To  please  the  fools  and  puzzle  all  the  wise. 
Succeeding  time  did  equal  folly  call 
Believing  nothing,  or  believing  all." 

Dryden,  Abs.  and  Achj  loS  sqq. 

Titus  Gates— Shaftesbury,  the  Whigs,  and  the  Gre<  n  Ribbon  Club 
— Pope-buming^~The  question  of  the  succession— Fall  of  Danby— 
Charles  and  the  plot— Temple's  Privy  Council—"  King  Monmouth  "— 
Illness  of  Charles— Petitioners  and  Abhorrers— King  at  Oxford— Dis- 
solution of  Parliament,  fall  of  Shaftesbury,  and  Whig  plots— Charles 
absolute— Bruce's  account  of  the  King's  last  illness  anc  death. 

TITUS  GATES  "was  a  low  Man,  of  an  ill  cut, 
very  short  neck  ;  and  his  Visage  j.nd  Features 
were  most  particular.  His  month  was  the 
Center  of  his  Face,  and  a  compass  there  wou  d  sweep  his 
Nose,  Forehead,  and  Chin  within  the  Pericieter.  Cave 
quos  Deus  ipse  notavity  His  manner  of  speech  was  a 
peculiar  harsh  drawl,  well  represented  in  "  I  everil  of  the 
Peak."  After  a  thoroughly  discreditable  life,  he  now 
came  forward  with  81  charges  against  tie  Catholics, 
especially  the  Jesuits,  accusing  them  of  inteation  to  fire 
the  city,  raise  the  Irish  Catholics,  conquer  England  by  the 


^ 
1 


f 


222 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


help  of  the  Irish  and  French,  kill  all  Protestants,  and 
murder  the  King.  This  tale  Gates  and  Teonge  brought  to 
Court,  and  also  laid  before  Sir  Edmund  Berry  Godfrey, 
a  well-known  City  magistrate.  On  Oates*  evidence,  Cole- 
man, the  Duke  of  York's  secretary,  was  arrested,  and 
treasonable  papers  were  found  in  his  possession.  This 
strengthened  Oates*  credit  and  the  general  belief  in  the 
plot,  at  last  so  strong  that  one  could  have  denied  Christ 
with  less  danger  than  the  plot.  On  the  17  October,  1678, 
Godfrey  was  found  murdered  in  a  ditch  near  Primrose 
Hill,  and  the  popular  indignation  and  excitement  were 
fomented  by  the  Whigs.  Dr.  Lloyd,  afterwards  Bishop  of 
St  Asaph,  preached  his  funeral  sermon  from  the  text, 
"  Died  Abner  as  a  fool  dieth  ?  "  While  preaching,  two 
clergymen  supported  him  in  the  pulpit,  as  a  kind  of 
theatrical  hint  at  possible  violence.  Before  the  funeral, 
Godfrey's  body  lay  in  state  in  the  streets  of  London  for 
two  days,  passed  by  a  constant  stream  of  excited  citizens.^ 
Shaftesbury  and  his  friends  were  the  first  to  reorganize 
political  opposition,  in  every  direction  and  for  all  classes. 
In  167  s  was  founded  the  Green  Ribbon  Club,  and  by  this 
means  the  people  of  London  were  controlled  and  incited 
in  any  desired  direction  by  the  Whig  leaders.^  "As  to 
these  tumults  about  burning  the  Pope,  of  which  yet  I  have 
made  but  a  general  mention,  it  is  not  to  be  thought  they 
could  be  carried  on  by  a  Faction  disjointed,  and  acting 
separately,  but  rather  that  they  were  oeconomised  under 
some  common  Direction,  as  should  prescribe  Methods,  and 
assign  the  Actors  their  Parts.    This,  in  general,  I  have 

'  The  Godfrey  aflfair  was  mentioned  on  every  public  occasion,  and  in  every 
possible  way,  until  the  ferment  of  the  plot  had  died  down.  He  was  named  in 
Prologues ;  his  body,  borne  by  a  man  attired  as  a  Jesuit  on  a  white  horse, 
appeared  in  Pope-burning  processions,  and  even  on  playing-cards ;  while  a 
bookseller  near  Fleetbridge  took  "  Sir  Edmund  Berry  Godfrey's  Head  "  as  his 
sign,  in  1681. 

*  A  rival  Tory  club  was  formed  at  Warder  within  Ludgate,  which  included 
the  Duke  of  Ormonde,  the  Recorders  and  most  of  the  aldermen,  and  did  great 
service,  according  to  Ailesbury. 


GREEN    RIBBON   CLUB 


223 


mentioned,  as  depending  on  the  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  who 
either  of  himself,  or  derived  from  some  Cabal  superior  to 
him,  took   the  Presidentship  of  the  factious  Counsels  at 
that  time.     But   without  penetrating  so  deep,  we  had  a 
more  visible  Administration,  mediate,  as  it  were,  between 
his  Lordship,  and  the  greater  and  lesser  vulgar,  who  were 
to  be  the  immediate  Tools.     And  this  was  the  Club  called 
originally  the  King's  Head  Club.    The  Gentlemen  of  that 
worthy  Society  held  their  Evening  Sessions  continually  at 
the  "King's  Head  "  Tavern  over  against  the  Inner  Temple 
Gate.     But  upon  occasion  of  the  signal  of  a  Green  Ribbon, 
agreed  to  be  worn  in  their  Hats  in  the  Da/s  of  Street 
Engagements,  like  the  Coats  of  Arms  of  valiant  knights  of 
old,  whereby  all  the  Warriors  of  the  Society  might  be  dis- 
tinguished, and  not  mistake  Friends  for  Enemies,  they  were 
called  also  the  Green  Ribbon  Club.     Their  Seat  was  in  a 
sort  of  Carfour  at  Chancery  Lane  End,  a  Centre  of  Business 
and  Company  most  proper  for  such  Anglers  of  Fools.   The 
House  was  double  balconied  in  front,  as  may  yet  be  seen, 
for  the  Clubsters  to  issue  forth  in  fresco  witi  Hats  and 
no  Perruques  ;  Pipes  in  their  Mouths,  merry  Faces,  and 
diluted  Throats,  for  Vocal  Encouragement  of  the  Canaglia 
below,  at  bonfires,  on  usual  and  unusual  occasions.     They 
admitted  all  Strangers  that  were  confidingly  introduced ; 
for  it  was  a  main  End  of  their  institution  to  make  Prose- 
lytes, especially  of  the  raw  estated  Youth  newly  come  to 
Town  .  ,  .  The  Conversation  and  ordinary  Discourse  of 
the  Club  was  chiefly  upon  the  Subject  of  Braveur  in  defend- 
ing the  Cause  of  Liberty  and  Property,  and  what  every 
true  Protestant  and  Englishman  ought  to  venture  and  do, 
rather  than  be  overrun  with  Popery  and  Slavery.     There 
was    much    Recommendation  of  Silk   Armoar,  and  the 
Prudence  of  being  provided  with  it,  against  thti  Time  that 
Protestants  were  to  be  massacred.     And  accordingly  there 
was  abundance  of  those  silken  Back,  Breast,  and  Potts, 
made  and  sold,  that  were  pretended  to  be  Piste  l-Proof;  in 
which  any  Man  dressed  up  was  as  safe  as  in  an  House,  for 


^L 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


it  was  impossible  any  could  go  to  strike  him  for  laughing : 
so  ridiculous  was  the   Figure,  as   they  say,   of  Hogs  in 
Armour.  .  .  .  This  was  Armour  of   Defence ;    but    our 
Sparks   were   not  altogether   so  tame   as  to   carry  their 
Provision  no  farther,  for  truly  they  intended  to  be  Assail- 
ants on  fair  Occasion,  and  had,  for  that  End,  recommended 
to  them  also   a  certain   Pocket  Weapon,  which,  for  its 
Design   and     Efficacy,    had   the    honour    to  be  called  a 
Protestant  FlaiL     It  was  for  Street  and  Croud-work,  and 
the  Engine,  lurking  perdue  in  a  Coat  Pocket,  might  readily 
sally  out  to  Execution  ;  and  so,  by  clearing  a  great  Hall, 
or  Piazza,  or  so,  carry  an  Election  by  a  choice  way  of  poll- 
ing,  called  knocking  down.      The     Handle    resembled   a 
Farrier's  Bloodstick,  and  the  Fall  was  joined  to  the  End 
by  a  strong  nervous  Ligature,  that,  in  its  swing,  fell  short 
of  the  Head  and  was  made  of  Lignum  vitce^  or  rather,  as 
the  Poet  termed  it,  MortisP     Lady  Shaftesbury  carried  a 
small  pair  of  pistols  in  her  muff,  and  persuaded  other  ladies 
to  follow  her  example  ;  while  many  worthy  citizens  went 
about  their  business  wearing  concealed  daggers.     Burnings 
of  effigies  of  the  Pope,  and  other  unpopular  persons,  carried 
in  procession  through  the  street,  also  kept  alive  the  popular 
excitement,  and  we  hear  of  special  burnings  as  early  as 
1673,  when  Mary  of  Modena  was   coming   over  to  Eng- 
land.     The   5  November  and  Queen  Elizabeth's  birthday 
were  the   special    Pope-burning   days.      The   Burning  in 
Nov.  1677  had  some  original  qualities :  "  Last  Saturday 
y*  coronation  of  Q"  Elizabeth  wase  solomnised  in  y*  city 
w*  mighty  bonefires  &  y'  burning  of  a  most  costly  pope, 
caryed    by    four  persons    in  divers    habits,  y"  effigies  of 
two  divels  whispering  in  his  eares,  his  belly  filled  full  of 
live  cats  who  squawled  most  hideously  as  soone  as  they  felt 
the  fire ;    the   common   saying   all   y«   while   it   wase  y' 
language  of  y*  Pope  and  y*  Divil  in  a  dialogue  betwixt 
them.     A  tierce  of  claret  wase  set  out  before  ye  Temple- 
gate  for  ye  common  people.      Mr.  Langhorne  sath  he  is 
very  confident  ye  pageantry  cost  40  li! 


i> 


THE   KING  AND   THE   UPPER   HOUSE    225 


Shaftesbury,  leader  of  the  Whigs,'  was  by  far  the 
ablest  man  in  England  at  this  time,  except  the  King,  and 
he  nearly  overthrew  him ;  but  Charles  still  undercut  him. 
He  began  political  life  as  an  officer  in  the  King's  army. 
He  went  over  to  the  Rebels,  eventually  sat  in  the  Bare- 
bones  Parliament,  was  presented  in  the  Privy  Council  list 
by  Monk  to  the  King,  and  for  some  time  remained  on  the 
Court  side,  and  was  a  member  of  the  1670  Cal^al,  when  he 
intrigued  in  the  cause  of  toleration.  In  167  5  he  fell  out 
of  office  as  Lord  Chancellor,  and  became  liead  of  the 
Opposition.  Clever  schemer  and  brilliant  debater  as 
Shaftesbury  was,  he  was  little  more  than  j^imus  inter 
pares,  for  the  House  of  Lords  at  this  time  was  at  once 
more  clever  and  more  energetic  than  it  has  perhaps  ever 
been  since.  Charles  himself  often  entered  in:ognito  and 
stood  by  the  fire,  talking  and  laughing.  Here  he  watched 
the  progress  of  the  great  Exclusion  debate,  ir  November, 
1680,  heard  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  vote  for  the  Bill, 
and  murmured,  "  the  kiss  of  Judas  " ;  and  here  he  heard 
Halifax  ironically  doubt  Danby's  elevation  to  a  marquisate, 
saying  that  it  was  not  to  be  borne,  if  true ;  on  which  Charles 
said,  "  My  God,  how  I  am  ill-treated ;  and  I  nust  bear  it, 
and  keep  silence."  Apparently,  the  first  time  Charles 
appeared  in  this  way  in  the  Upper  House  was  in  April, 
1670.  "The  King,  about  10  o'clock,  took  boat,  with 
Lauderdale  only  and  two  ordinary  attendants,  and  rowed 
a  while  as  towards  the  bridge,  and  soon  turned  back  to 
the  Parliament  Stairs  and  so  went  up  into  the  House  of 
Lords,  and  took  his  seat.  Almost  all  of  them  were 
amazed,  but  all  seemed  so ;  and  the  Duke  of  York 
especially  was  very  much  surprised.     Being  sat,  he  told 

*  The  Opposition  were  successively  called  True  Blues,  Birmingham  Pro- 
testants, Petitioners,  and  Whigs ;  which  last  name  was  originally  applied  to 
the  Scotch  Covenanters,  and  has  lived  as  a  name  for  the  Opposition.  The 
namies  applied  to  the  Loyalists  were  Yorkists,  Tantivys,  Irsh,  Wild  Irish, 
Bog -Trotters,  and  Tories ,  the  last  originally  being  Catholic  bandits  who  lay 
in  wait  for  Englishmen  among  the  Irish  bogs. 

Q 


I 


) 


I 


w 


226 


CHARLES   II   AND    HIS   COURT 


them  that  it  was  a  privilege  he  claimed  from  his  ancestors 
to  be  present  at  their  deliberations.  That  therefore  they 
should  not  for  his  coming,  interrupt  their  debates,  but 
proceed,  and  be  covered.  They  did  so.  .  .  .  The  King 
has  ever  since  continued  his  session  among  them  and  says 
it  is  better  than  going  to  a  play." 

The  Whigs  desired  to  exclude  James  from  succession 
to  the  throne,  so  put  forward  the  Duke  of  Monmouth, 
more  or  less  openly,  in  his  place  ;  the  alternative  to  this 
scheme  was  the  King's  divorce  and   re-marriage  with  a 
Protestant  wife.     So  in  November,   1678,  Oates  swore  to 
personal  knowledge  of  a  plot  in  which  the  Queen  and  Sir 
George  Wakeman,  her  physician,  had  combined  to  kill  the 
King.     Once  before  Buckingham  had  contrived  to  suggest 
to    Charles   that   the   Queen   should   be   kidnapped   and 
shipped  to  Virginia,  which  proposal  Charles  rejected  with 
horror,  though  Burnet  hints  that  he  listened  more  favour- 
ably to  a  scheme  to  persuade  her  to  enter  a  nunnery, 
rendered  abortive  by  the  Queen's  own   decided   refusal. 
Now  again  Charles  defended  his  wife,  and  caused  Oates 
to  be  imprisoned  and  his  papers  to  be  seized,  though  he 
was  released  to  please  the  Commons.     The  imprisonment 
really  made  clear  to  him  the  limits  of  his  license  to  accuse 
and  slay,  and  was  probably  intended  only  for  that  purpose. 
It  is  about  this  time  that  "the  Queen  is  now  a  mistress, 
the  passion  her  spouse  has  for  her  is  so  great"     "  They 
think  I  have  a  mind  to  a  new  wife  ;  but  for  all  that  I  will 
not  see  an  innocent  woman  abused."     "She   is  a  weak 
woman,  and  hath  some  disagreeable  humours ;  but  was 
not  capable  of  a  wicked  thing ;  and  considering  my  own 
faultiness  to  her  in  some  things,  I  think  it  a  horrid  shame 
to   abandon   her.'*     The  Queen   came  to   Newmarket  in 
1680,   to    be  with   the    King,   "pretending   she    can    be 
nowhere  safe  but  where  the  King  is  present  to  protect 
her." 

Parliament  was  now  afraid  of  the  standing  army,  and 
insisted  on  its  disbandment ;  and  Danby  fell,  owing  to  the 


w 


JAMES   II 

FROM   THE    l-AI.NriN(.    IIV    KNEI.I.EK    IN    THE    NAIIONAI.      (.KTRAIT   GAl.l  ERV 


; 


HI 

III 


THE  PLOT 


227 


discovery  of  the  reason  why  the  troops  raised  in  March, 

1678,  at  his  instigation,  against  Louis,  had  never  been 
used  :  he  had,  unwillingly  and  under  the  King's  orders, 
sold  the  force's  inactivity  to  Louis  for  ;f  330,000.  Louis 
now  betrayed  Danby  to  the  House  of  Commons,  through 
Montague,  the  English  representative  at  j^aris.  Parlia- 
ment voted  Danby's  imprisonment,  and  Chiirles  dissolved 
them  in  January,  1679. 

Meanwhile  the  trials  for  the  Plot  went  011,  and  endured 
some  time  longer.  Coleman  was  convicted  and  executed, 
and  many  others,  mostly  innocent  men.       /it  last,  in  July, 

1679,  Wakeman  was  acquitted,  and  Chief  Justice  Scroggs 
roundly  abused  Titus  Gates:  "You  have  taken  a  great 
confidence,  I  know  not  by  what  authority,  to  say  anything 
of  anybody."  *  The  Catholics  now  plucked  up  heart,  and 
tried  to  produce  a  Presbyterian  conspiracy,  called  the 
Meal-tub  Plot  (from  the  place  where  the  incriminating 
papers  were  found),  in  October,  1679,  but  its  exposure 
renewed  belief  in  their  guilt.  Lord  Strafford  and  Arch- 
bishop Plunket  were  the  last,  and  innocent,  victims  of  the 
Plot  Terror,  in  December,  1680,  and  the  summer  of  1681, 
respectively.  The  general  attitude  towards  the  plot  is 
difficult  to  realize  and  justify  nowadays.  B  it  the  dangers 
which  it  suggested  were  more  aetually  po5sible,  and  far 
more  apparently  possible,  then  than  now.  All  witnesses 
and  judges  were  infected  either  by  terror  or  strong  political 
bias ;  even  Halifax  and  the  King  saw  and  Sc.id  that  though 
the  plot  was  probably  not  true,  "  it  must  be  handled  as  if 
it  were  so  .  .  . ;  the  notoriety  of  the  fact  is  evidence 
enough  of  the  plot."  The  King's  attitude  throughout 
was  one  of  contempt  and  disbelief.  When  Kirkby  first 
approached  him   in   the  Park  on  13  Augist,  1678,   and 

*  A  great  rebuflf  for  Gates,  who  was  the  most  powerful  subject  in  the  realm 
ior  some  time,  and  one  of  the  most  popular,  in  a  sense.  Cf.  the  story  of  the 
lady  in  the  Spectator^  who  had  his  picture  on  her  fan,  her  handkerchief,  and 
everywhere  else  possible,  which,  even  if  not  true  to  fac;,  is  certainly  true 
to  the  spirit  of  the  time. 


1 1 
I 


ti 


\ 


, ) 


' » 


228 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


slipped  a  note  into  his  hand,  asking  that  he  might  speak 
to  him,  the  King  read  it  and  asked  what  he  meant.    "  Sire, 
your  enemies  have  a  design   against  your  life.      Keep 
within  the  company,  for  I  know  not  but  you  may  be  in 
danger  in  this  very  walk."     " How  may  that  be?"     "By 
being  shot  at,"  said  Kirkby,  and  asked  that  he  might  say 
more  in  a  private  place.     Charles  told  him  to  wait  in  his 
closet,  and  quietly  finished  his  walk.     On  the  20  October, 
1678,  he  told  Reresby  that  "he  took  it  to  be  some  artifice, 
and  that  he  did  not  believe  one  word  of  the  whole  story." 
Compare  the  following  story.    The  King,  walking  with 
Danby   and   Lord   Cromarty  up   Constitution   Hill    into 
Hyde  Park,  met  the  Duke  of  York's  coach  :  the  Duke  said 
he  was  greatly  surprised  to  find  His  Majesty  in  that  place, 
with  so  small  an  attendance,  and   that   he  thought   His 
Majesty  exposed  himself  to  some  danger.     "  No  kind  of 
danger,  James ;  for  I  am  sure  no  man  in  England  will  take 
away  my  life  to  make  you  King."   On  21  November  he  said 
of  Bedloe,  "  he  was  a  rogue,  and  that  he  was  satisfied  he 
had  given  some  false  evidence,  concerning  the  death  of  Sir 
Edmund  Berry  Godfrey."   Charles  himself  examined  Oates 
on  29  September,  1678,  at  the  Privy  Council,  and  concluded 
by  declaring  him  a  "most  lying  knave."     In  November, 
1680,  the  King,  at  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth's,  was  "very 
open  as  to  the  witnesses  who  were  making  out  the  Popish 
Plot,  and  proved  to  a  demonstration,  that  many  articles  they 
had  given  in  evidence  were  not  only  improbable,  but  quite 
impossible."     "  To  my  knowledge  the  King  believed  not 
one  word  of  what  was  called  Oates*  plot.     It  may  be  asked, 
why  did  he  sign  dead  warrants  thereupon  ?    The  nation, 
by  wicked  artifices  of  a  discarded  minister,  was  then  half 
distracted,  and   God   knows  what  would   have  been   the 
consequences    of   denying   what  they  called   for  then — 
Justice ;  and  the  King  used  to  say,  *  Let  the  blood  lie  on 
them  that  condemned  them,  for  God  knows  I  sign  with 
tears  in  my  eyes.*  **     As  a  question  of  abstract  right  and 
wrong,  the  King's  behaviour  was  very  culpable ;  but  it  is  a 


FIRST  WHIG  PARLIAMENT 


229 


hard  thing  to  expect  any  King  to  lose  his  throne  and 
perhaps  his  life  on  a  question  of  abstract  principle,  when 
expediency  points  in  the  other  direction ;  far  he  also  said 
that  blood  was  the  quickest  way  of  stilling  the  whole 
tumult.  Dr.  Airy  has  spoken  of  the  King*s  having  de- 
bauched the  judgments  of  such  persons  as  spoke  for  him 
at  the  time.  Halifax's  judgment  agreed  with  the  King's, 
and  he  was  the  last  person  to  be  "  debauched  "  in  any  way 
by  Charles  ;  and  Ailesbury  was  writing  in  [740,  when  he 
had  surely  had  time  for  reflection.  Dr.  Airy's  indictment 
that  the  King  was  the  original  cause  of  the  whole  affair,  is, 
however,  patently  true;  he  should  never  have  suffered  his 
affairs  to  get  into  such  a  state ;  but,  given  1  Jiat  state,  it  is 
asking  a  little  too  much  of  human  nature  to  expect  him 
to  have  acted  otherwise. 

The  Whigs  triumphed  at  the  elections  in  February, 
1679,  and  Royalist  feeling  in  the  House  and  country  was 
at  a  low  ebb.  Luckily  the  Whig  leaders  quarrelled, 
instead  of  pressing  on  united,  and  therefore,  in  all  likeli- 
hood, irresistible.  Shaftesbury  wished  to  exclude  James 
altogether,  Halifax  to  limit  his  powers  as  King.  In  the 
first  Whig  Parliament,  March,  1679,  and  in  May,  the  First 
Exclusion  Bill  was  introduced.  In  April— July  of  this 
year  Sir  William  Temple  suggested  a  new  Privy  Council 
to  the  King,  to  be  composed  of  thirty  lords,  taken  from 
Whigs  and  Tories  alike,  and  Shaftesbury  was  made  Presi- 
dent of  the  Council.  Charles  accepted  hi*;  new  advisers 
purely  in  a  humorous  spirit,  and  decided  ^vithout  them : 
"God'sfish,  they  have  put  a  set  of  men  about  me,  but 
they  shall  know  nothing,  and  this  keep  to  yourself."  "  I 
tell  them  nothing,  and  it  will  not  be  long  Ifefore  we  shall 
part."  And,  indeed,  soon  after  they  all  desired  leave  to 
retire  from  the  Board,  alleging  that  attendirig  the  Council 
was  prejudicial  to  their  affairs.  The  Kirg's  answer  to 
them  all  was  the  same :  "  With  all  my  heart"  In  July, 
Charles  dissolved  Parliament;  in  its  short  life  it  had 
passed    the   Habeas   Corpus  Act,   owing  to  the    tellers 


■■^i 


i 


Ill 


230 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


MONMOUTH 


231 


!! 


counting  one  very  fat  lord  as  ten,  and  failing  to  correct  this. 
The  dissolution,  of  course,  prevented  the  passing  of  the 
First  Exclusion  Bill.  Charles  had  prorogued  Parliament 
on  26  May,  and  remarked  In  the  Queen's  room  in  the 
evening :  "  I  have  just  freed  myself  from  the  burden  which 
weighed  upon  me.  How  they  have  deceived  themselves  if 
they  imagined  that  want  of  money  would  force  me  to 
extremities.  I  shall  find  means  to  pay  the  fleet  and 
manage  economically;  it  will  be  difficult  and  uncomfort- 
able for  me,  but  I  will  submit  to  anything  rather  than 
endure  the  gentlemen  of  the  Commons  any  longer." 

In  the  summer  of  1679  Monmouth  came  forward  as 
the  nominal  head,  but  actual  tool,  of  the  Whigs.  He  was 
the  reputed  son  and  favourite  of  the  King,  though  most 
probably  the  child  of  Colonel  Robert  Sidney  (whom  he 
resembled  even  to  the  wart  on  his  face)  and  Lucy  Walters, 
who  left  Sidney  for  the  King  in  1649.  Though  circum- 
stances of  time  and  resemblance  were  against  the  idea,  the 
King  treated  the  Duke  as  his  own  son,  and  always  showed 
him  especial  favour,  insomuch  that  James,  who  disliked 
him,  used  to  call  him  "  nephew,"  because  he  knew  it  so 
pleased  the  King.  Monmouth  was  handsome,  brave,  and 
good-natured,  but  weak  and  inclined  to  many  vices,  and 
proved  as  wax  in  the  hands  of  "  the  false  Achithophel." 
He  married  the  Countess  of  Buccleuch,  and  Charles  writes 
to  Madame  on  20  April,  1663:  "You  must  not  by  this 
post,  expect  a  long  letter  from  me,  this  being  Jameses 
marriage  day,  and  I  am  goeing  to  sup  with  them,  where 
we  intend  to  dance  and  see  them  abed  together,  but  the 
ceremony  shall  stop  there."  In  1668  Monmouth  visited 
the  French  Court,  taking  the  following  letter  from  the 
King  to  Madame:  "  Whithall,  14  Jan.,  1668,  I  beleeve  you 
may  easily  guesse  that  I  am  something  concerned  for  this 
bearer,  James  [Duke  of  Monmouth  added  in  red  ink  and  a 
different  hand],  and  therefore  I  put  him  into  your  handes 
to  be  directed  by  you  in  all  thinges,  and  pray  use  that 
authority  over  him  as  you  ought  to  do  in  kindness  to  me 


which  is  all  I  shall  say  to  you  at  this  time,  ibr  I  thinke  he 
will  not  be  so  soone  at  Paris  as  the  poste,  and  I  have  no 
ignore  to  trouble  you  with  now,  only  to  assv  re  you  that  I 
am  intierly  yours,  C.  R."  ...  "A  thousand  thankes  for  the 
care  you  take  before-hand  of  James,  ...  I  do  confesse  I 
love  him  very  well."  ..."  I  cannot  thanke  you  eno*  for 
your  goodness  and  kindnesse  to  James."  ...  "if  he  does 
faile  in  writting,  I  feare  he  takes  a  little  af  :er  his  father." 
. .  .  "He  intends  to  put  on   a  perriwig  againe,  when  he 
comes  to  Paris,  but  I  beleeve  you  will  thiiike  him  better 
farr,  as  I  do,  with  his  short  haire.  ..."     In  1670,  Charles 
grants  "  a  gracious  pardon  unto  our  dear  sonne,  James, 
Duke   of  Monmouth,   of    all    Murders,    I-[omicides    and 
Felonyes,  whatsoever  at  any  time  before   f  28th  day  of 
Feb'^   last   past,  committed   either  by  himselfe   alone   or 
together   w*^   any   other   person    or    persois."     In     1674, 
Charles  was  pressed  by  Shaftesbury  to  declare  Monmouth 
legitimate,  but  said  that,  "  As  well  as  he  lov'd  him,  he  had 
rather  see  him  hanged  at  Tyburn  then  cwn  him  as  his 
legitimat  Son." 

Monmouth's  spelling  is  certainly  worse  than  that  of 
most  courtiers  of  the  time,  perhaps  an  example  of  his 
weak  intellect  The  following  letter  is  dated  from  "  the 
Camp  nigh  Renalls,  the  29  June"  [1679],  when  the  Duke 
had  been  sent  into  Scotland  to  quell  the  Covenanters' 
rising,  which  he  had  already  done,  on  the  22nd,  at  Both- 
well  Brig.  "Mr.  Ross  has  toled  mee  hew  mutch  I  am 
obliged  to  you  for  your  kindness,  w  I  am  very  sensible 
of  and  shall  try  to  sho  it  upon  all  occasiois.  I  will  asur 
you  the  effects  of  your  kindness  will  make  me  live  within 
compas,  for  as  long  as  I  receave  my  money  beforehand,  I 
shall  do  it  w***  a  greaddell  of  easse.  I  wont  trouble  you 
w"*  news  becaus  Mr.  Aston  will  tell  you  all  ther  is.  I  will 
try  to  instrokt  him  all  as  well  as  I  can.  I  wont  trouble 
you  no  longer,  only  I  doe  asur  you  ther  is  nobody  mor 
your  humble  servant  than  I  am.  Monmouth."  The  Duke 
returned  home  from  Scotland  "possessing  the  love  and 


1 


il 


II 


I! 


II 


A\  I  \ 


232 


CHARLES  II   AND   HIS    COURT 


commanding  the  armies  of  the  two  kingdoms."  James  of 
York  was  in  Brussels,  for  Charles  had  sent  him  thither  in 
March,  1679,  owing  to  his  unpopularity  during  the  Plot 
Charles*  letter  to  his  brother  on  the  subject  is  character- 
istic :  "  Dear  Brother,  I  have  already  given  you  my  reasons 
at  large  why  I  would  have  you  absent  yourself  for  some 
time  beyond  the  seas.  As  I  am  truly  sorry  for  the  occa- 
sion, so  you  may  be  sure  that  I  shall  never  desire  it  longer 
than  it  will  be  absolutely  necessary  both  for  your  good  and 
my  security.  In  the  meantime,  I  think  it  proper  to  give 
it  you  under  my  hand  that  I  expect  this  compliance  from 
you,  desiring  it  may  be  as  soon  as  conveniently  you  can. 
You  may  easily  believe  with  what  trouble  I  write  this  to 
you,  there  being  nothing  I  am  more  sensible  of  than  the 
constant  kindness  you  have  had  for  me,  and  I  hope  you 
will  be  so  just  as  to  be  as  well  assured  that  no  absence  nor 
anything  else  can  ever  change  me  from  being  truly  and 
kindly  yours,  C.  R." 

Just  at  this  moment  Charles  fell  ill,  August,  1679 : 
"  Last  Wednesday  his  Ma^  play'd  at  tenis,  and  after  y'  he 
had  been  in  bed  and  rubb'd,  he  walked  a  long  time  by  ye 
water  side.  Ye  next  day,  he  found  himselfe  indispos'd, 
and  on  Fryday  morning  he  had  a  very  great  chillness  and 
numness  in  all  his  limbs,  especially  his  leggs  and  shoulders, 
and  his  head  much  indisposed  and  heavy.  On  Saturday 
he  took  some  manna  w*'''  purged  him  16  or  17  times.  On 
Sunday  he  wase  better,  but  on  Monday  morning  he  had 
a  very  ill  fitt.  Severall  physicians  sent  for  from  hence. 
He  wase  blouded  12  oz.,  after  w*"^  he  vomited,  w"^  did 
affright  ye  physitians,  and  purg'd.  But  last  night  he 
rested  very  well,  and  wase  well  this  morning."  ...  "A 
Tuesday  I  was  at  Windsor.  I  saw  ye  King,  who  was 
then  very  weake.  He  has  a  Tertian  ague,  and  has  had 
four  fits  ;  the  last  was  more  gentle,  yet  held  him  from  9  on 
Tuesday  night  till  noone  yesterday."  ...  "I  writ  to  you 
as  soon  as  my  little  brains  were  settled  by  hearing  the 
King  was  much  mended,  and  thanks  be  to  God,  does  yet 


THE  KING'S   ILLNESS 


533 


continue ;  but  I  have  the  less  comfort  in  it  because  his  fits 
were  put  off  like  mine,  by  the  Jesuit's  powder,^  and  it  was 
as  necessary  to  give  it  to  him  as  to  me,  for  he  was  with 
two  fits,  weaker  than  I  was  with  more.  If  all  the  trouble 
people  have  been  in  was  out  of  kindness  to  him,  never  any 
king  had  so  much,  for  it  was  to  a  distraction.  I  believe 
there  is  scarce  anybody  beyond  Temple  Bar  that  believes 
his  distemper  proceeded  from  anything  but  poison,  and 
though  as  little  like  it  as  if  he  had  fallen  from  a  horse,^ 
everybody  is  very  desirous  to  have  him  come  to  town  as 
soon  as  he  is  able ;  as  yet  he  does  not  appear  much 
inclined  to  it ;  yet  one  of  our  friends,  he  that  is  constantly 
there,  you  do  not  doubt,  is  very  well  in  favour  of  it,  and 
the  other,  who  is  much  there,  is  so  too.  ...  If  the  Privy 
Councillors  had  not  used  their  authority  to  keep  the 
crowds  out  of  the  King's  Chamber,  he  had  been  smothered  ; 
the  bedchambermen  could  do  nothing  to  hinder  it."* 
When  the  King  was  first  taken  ill,  all  the  doctors  were 
away,  and  the  King  sent  for  Dr.  Short,  who  happened  to 
be  in  Windsor ;  some  one  remarked  that  he  was  a  papist 
and  therefore  unfit  to  attend  the  King,  to  which  Charles 
replied,  hinting  that  Monmouth  and  his  party  would  have 
him  die.     By  29  August  the  King  had  *' exchanged  water- 

*  Or  "  Jesuit's  bark  "  =  cinchona,  quinkinna  (Burnet,  ij.  242)  or  quinine. 

'  Poison  was  always  suspected  at  that  time,  if  the  ca  ise  or  nature  of  an 
illness  was  doubtful:  cf.  deaths  of  Madame,  Lady  Denhari,  and  Charles  II. 

'  Dowager  Lady  Sunderland  to  Henry  Sidney,  2  Septeir  ber,  1679  (Diary  i.), 
and  cf.  Lady  N.-N.  Cavalier  and  Puritan^  p.  60.  Nevs-letter  of  1678  (?) 
to  Sir  Richard  Newdegate,  Jr.  :  '*  His  Ma*^'  having  been  Hawking  in  Bucks., 
returned  to  Windsor  and  walking  part  of  the  way  in  his  boots,  it  put  him  in  a 
great  heat,  so  that  at  his  coming  to  Windsor,  he  found  li  mself  aflSictcd  with 
a  pain  at  his  stomach,  which  with  some  cold  he  had  that  d  ly  taken,  took  away 
his  stomach,  so  that  he  eat  not  Supper,  and  was  that  Night  very  restless." 
[King  refused  bleeding  next  day,  but  took  a  dose  of  n  anna  and  became  a 
little  better.  Then  his  fever  returned  and  three  doctors  were  sent  for,  who 
again  prescribed  bleeding,  which  the  King  took.]  "At  8  o'clock  his  Maj. 
vomited  2  or  3  times,  but  was  very  cheerful.  .  .  .  Then's  a  great  resort  of 
Lords  and  great  persons,  but  the  Lord  Chamberlain  is  01  dered  to  admit  but 
few,  the  K.'s  Bedchamber  being  so  little  that  the  Com[>any  is  oflfensive  to 
him." 


234       Charles  ii  and  his  court 

gruels  and  potions  for  muttoa  and  partridges,  on  which  he 
feeds  frequently  and  heartily."  The  Triumvirate,  Essex, 
Halifax,  and  Sunderland,  sent  for  James,  who  came  over 
in  disguise,  post-haste,  to  his  brother's  death-bed  ;  but  was 
greeted  on  arrival  by  a  cheerful  and  apparently  surprised 
convalescent.  On  recovering,  the  King  sent  Monmouth 
to  Holland  and  James  to  Scotland. 

The  second  Whig  Parliament  was  almost  immediately 
prorogued  from  October,  1679—- October,  1680.  In  Novem- 
ber, 1679,  the  Pope-burning  processions  became  more 
violent  than  ever,  with  the  effigy  of  Godfrey,  and  the 
catch- verse : 

"  Your  Popish  Plot  and  Smithfield  threat 
We  do  not  fear  at  all ; 
For  see  beneath  Queen  Bess's  feet, 
You  fall,  you  fall,  you  fall." 

In  November,  1679,  Monmouth  returned  without  leave, 
and  London  went  mad  with  delight  at  the  "  Protestant 
Duke's  "  arrival :  "  You  must  needs  hear  of  the  abominable 
disorders  amongst  us,  calling  all  the  women  whores,  and 
the  men  rogues  in  the  playhouses,  throwing  candles  and 
links,  calling  my  Lord  Sunderland  traitor,  but  in  good 
company  ;  the  Duke,  rascal ;  and  all  ended  in  '  God  bless 
his  Highness,  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  we  will  be  for  him 
against  all  the  world.*  I  am  told  they  may  be  fined  a 
great  deal  if  they  are  prosecuted."  ..."  The  King  hath  a 
New  mistress,  Lord  R[ane]s  daughter.  She  brought  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth  to  the  King ;  he  resolves  to  take  up 
arms  in  case  the  King  dies,  for  he  will  conclude  him 
murdered."  In  1680,  Monmouth  went  on  a  progress 
through  the  West,  and  struck  the  bdton  sinister  from  his 
arms,  while  his  party  spread  the  story  of  the  Black  Box 
containing  the  marriage  contract  between  Charles  and 
Lucy  Walters.  In  May,  1680,  the  King  fell  ill  again: 
"  We  have  been  all  sadly  alarmed  with  the  King's  being 
sick,  but   he   is   now  very   well  again,  and  I  hope  will 


PETITIONERS   AND   ABHORRERS        235 

continue  so,  if  he  can  be  kept  from  fishing;  when  a  dog 
would  not  be  abroad." 

From  December,  1679,  onwards  the  Whigs  sent  up 
constant  petitions  to  the  King  to  call  Parliament  together, 
while  from  February,  1680,  the  Tories  sent  up  counter- 
addresses  in  abhorrence  of  the  petitions,  whence  the 
respective  parties  were  for  the  time  called  Petitioners 
and  Abhorrers,  The  King,  though  not  in  his  usual  spirits, 
had  ready  remarks  to  various  petitioners  ;  tci  the  Wiltshire 
gentlemen  :  "  You  would  not  take  it  well  I  should  meddle 
with  your  affairs,  and  I  desire  you  will  not:  meddle  with 
mine ; "  to  the  Berkshire  squires :  "  We  will  argue  the 
matter  over  a  cup  of  ale  when  we  meet  at  Windsor,  though 
I  wonder  my  neighbours  should  meddle  vith  my  busi- 
ness ; "  one  who  presented  him  the  petitioQ  of  Taunton, 
being  asked  how  he  dared  to  do  so,  gave  the  King  a 
rebuff:  "Sire,  my  name  is  Dare."  The  ^jeneral  feeling 
of  the  Commons  at  the  time  is  easily  traceable  in  the 
following  story :  "  When  [the  petition]  for  Wiltshire  was 
on  foot,  they  came  to  Michael  Wise,  the  Organist  of 
Salisbury  Cathedral,  who  had  a  great  deil  of  wit  and 
good  humour;  and  presenting  the  petition  to  him  for  to 
sign,  he  answered :  *  I  understand  nothing  but  music,  and 
if  you  please  I  will  set  a  tune  to  it,  and  that  is  all  I  can 
do  for  your  service.'  And  the  Parliament  sitting  some 
months  after,  it  was  with  difficulty  that  th  s  man  got  off 
well,  in  so  fiery  a  temper  the  House  of  Commons  was  in 
then." 

Owing  to  the  violence  and  direct  attackii  of  the  Whigs, 
the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  and  Lords  Sjnderland  and 
Essex  deserted  to  that  party,  while  Halifa:c  remained  on 
the  King's  side,  and  in  November,  1680,  after  the  meeting 
of  Parliament,  spoke  almost  alone  in  the  Lords  against 
the  Exclusion  Bill,  which  had  past  the  Commons ;  its 
rejection  caused  fresh  fury  among  the  Opposition,  and  the 
execution  of  Stafford  was  a  sop  to  them  and  to  the  people. 
The  second  Whig  Parliament  was  dissolved  in  January, 


II 


!/ 


236  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

1 68 1,  and  in  March  the  third  Whig  Parliament  met  at 
Oxford,  whither  the  King  had  astutely  summoned  them, 
away  from  the  Whig  stronghold  of  London,  to  one  of  his 
own  loyal  cities.  The  Whig  members  rode  into  Oxford 
with  troops  of  armed  supporters,  gay  with  blue  satin 
ribbons  and  streamers  in  their  hats,  with  the  legend  "  No 
Popery,  No  Slavery  ; "  while  the  Tory  squires  accompanied 
the  King,  crying  at  his  coach  window,  "  The  devil  hang  up 
all  Roundheads,"  while  the  undergraduates  cheered  and 
made  bonfires  for  "  Charles  the  Great,'*  or  pressed  to  the 
city  gates  with  the  townsfolk,  to  meet  the  incoming  Whigs, 
with  cries  of  "Make  ready!  stand  back!  Knock  'em 
down !  Knock  *em  down  ! "  all  wearing  red  ribbons.  The 
King  and  his  Life  Guards  lodged  in  Christ  Church,  the 
Whig  Lords  in  Balliol — for  an  exorbitant  rent.  Colledge, 
the  "  Protestant  joiner,"  came  down  to  Oxford,  and  helped 
to  distribute  libellous  pictures  and  rimes.  "There  was 
one  picture  graven  making  the  King  with  a  raree-show 
box  at  his  back,  which  was  a  type  of  the  Parliament,  and 
this  raree-show  and  his  box  v/as  to  be  pulled  into  the  ditch 
and  be  drowned.  Another  had  the  Church  of  England, 
with  several  men  booted  and  spurred  riding  in  the  rigging, 
which  were  the  Tories  and  Tantivies  riding  the  Church  to 
Rome.  And  the  Duke  was  made  half  Irishman  and  half 
Devil,  the  latter  part  setting  fire  to  London;  and  apt 
songs  were  fitted  to  these  exquisite  pieces  of  wit  which 
this  sanctified  crue  used  over  their  cups  ...  to  troll  in 
scurvy  tunes,  and  all  come  in  at  the  chorus."  The  King 
opened  session  on  the  21st  by  a  fine  speech,  which  con- 
tained the  remark :  "  I,  who  will  never  use  arbitrary 
government  myself,  am  resolved  not  to  suffer  it  in  others." 
He  offered  to  banish  James  and  make  William  or  Mary 
regent ;  but  the  Commons  would  have  nothing  but  Ex- 
clusion and  Monmouth,  relying  on  the  King's  apparent 
lack  of  money,  which,  they  thought,  would  force  him  to 
yield.  On  the  24th,  in  the  Upper  House,  Shaftesbury 
talked   with    the    King,   trying    to    make    him    declare 


DISSOLUTION   OF  PARLIAMIlNT         237 

Monmouth  his  successor ;  the  King  replied :  *  My  Lord,  let 
there  be  no  self-delusion.  I  will  never  yield  and  will  not 
let  myself  be  intimidated.  ...  I  have  law  and  reason  on 
my  side.  Good  men  will  be  with  me.  There  is  the  Church, 
which  will  remain  united  with  me.  Believe  me,  my  Lord, 
we  shall  not  be  divided."  Charles  was  strong  in  three 
years*  supply  of  money  from  Louis,  and  acted  accordingly. 
The  Commons  passed  the  Exclusion  Bill  again,  sitting  in 
the  Convocation  House ;  the  King  meanwhi  e  took  great 
personal  interest  in  making  the  Sheldonian  Theatre  com- 
fortable for  their  reception.  On  the  28th  he  came  to  the 
Lords,  sitting  in  the  Geometry  School,  in  a  sedan  chair, 
closely  followed  by  another  with  drawn  c  jrtains.  The 
Commons  were  summoned  to  the  Lords,  and  struggled  in, 
and  stood,  a  close-packed  crowd,  to  see  Charles  in  the 
state  robes  (the  contents  of  the  second  chait)  and  to  hear 
him  say :  "  My  Lords  and  Gentlemen,  that  all  the  world 
may  see  to  what  a  point  we  are  come,  that  W2  are  not  like 
to  have  a  good  end,  when  the  divisions  at  the  beginning 
are  such,  therefore,  my  Lord  Chancellor,  do  as  I  have 
commanded  you."  Finch  then  declared  Pf.rliament  dis- 
solved, and  Charles  left  the  throne.  The  Whigs  filed  out 
with  "dreadful  faces  and  loud  sighs,'*  as  Briice  says ;  and 
when  he  joined  the  King  in  the  unrobing  room,  "with  a 
most  pleasing  and  cheerful  countenance  he  touched  me  on 
the  shoulder ;  with  this  expression,  *  I  am  now  a  better 
man  than  you  were  a  quarter  of  an  hour  since ;  you  had 
better  have  one  king  than  five  hundred.'"  Charles  had 
sent  his  coach  on  the  night  before  on  the  roa  1  to  Windsor, 
and  now  rode  off  to  join  it,  while  the  Whigs  fled,  fearing 
the  King  would  send  his  guards  "  to  pull  the  n  out  by  the 
ears ;  and  in  spite  of  all  Shaftesbury's  efforts  to  rally  his 
men,  the  whole  party  fled  madly  to  their  homes,  as  from  a 
city  besieged,  the  price  of  horses  doubling  in  a  quarter  of 
an  hour.  The  Tory  party  now  rallied,  and  became  so 
enthusiastic  and  adulatory,  that  it  was  said  that  while 
the  Whig  Petitioners  spat  in  the  King's  face,  the  Tory 


ii 


I 


^ 


tl 


238 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


addressers  spat  in  his  mouth.  James'  popularity  rivalled 
that  of  his  brother.  Under  the  ministry  of  Laurence 
Hyde,  Earl  of  Rochester,  the  Whigs  and  Dissenters  came 
in  for  persecution  and  a  life  of  terror  ;  and  Shaftesbury 
was  impeached  of  high  treason.  On  17  November,  1681, 
appeared  Dryden*s  "  Absalom  and  Achithophel,"  summing 
up  the  political  situation  of  the  past  few  years. 

When  the  Whig  jury  in  London  threw  out  the  Bill 
against  Shaftesbury,  on  24  November,  the  city  went  mad 
with  joy,  and  a  medal  was  struck,  bearing  the  sun  shining 
through  a  cloud,  with  the  legend  "  Letamur."  Dryden  was 
bidden  write  a  poem  on  the  subject  by  Charles  himself, 
when  walking  with  him  in  the  Park :  "  If  I  was  a  poet,  and 
I  think  I  am  poor  enough  to  be  one,  I  would  write  a  poem 
on  such  a  subject  in  the  following  manner."  Dryden  took 
the  hint  and  received  one  hundred  broad  pieces  for  the 
poem  of  the  "Medal."  This  piece  called  forth  Shadwell's 
savage  and  scurrilous  counterblast,  "  The  Medal  of  John 
Bayes,"  which  Dryden  answered  by  **  MacFlecknoe "  and 
the  portrait  of  Og  in  the  Second  Part  of  "  Absalom  and 

Achithophel." 

The  Whig  leaders,  alarmed  at  the  Tory  re-action, 
hatched  the  Insurrection  and  Assassination  Plots,  in 
August-October,  1682,  the  nature  of  which  conspiracies 
is  sufficiently  shown  by  their  names ;  their  power  in  the 
country,  however,  was  almost  nothing,  their  own  counsels 
were  wrangling  and  confused,  being  made  up  of  such 
different  people  as  Shaftesbury,  Monmouth,  Essex,  Russell, 
Sidney,  Hampden,  Howard  of  Escrick,  and  the  old  Crom- 
wellians  Rumbold  and  Rumsey.  Shaftesbury  fled  to 
Holland  in  November,  1682,  and  died  there  in  January, 
1683.  Dryden's  last  mention  of  him  is  the  indecent  abuse 
in  "Albion  and  Albanius"  (1685),  where  Sedition  appears 
as  "  a  man  with  a  long,  lean,  pale  face,  with  fiend's  wings, 
and  snakes  twisted  round  his  body,  accompanied  by  several 
fanatical  rebellious  heads,  who  suck  poison  from  him, 
which   runs   out  of  a  tap   in  his   side."     Yet   he   allows 


X 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  WHIGS 


239 


Shaftesbury  to  have  been  an  upright  and  incorrupt  judge: 
and  modern  criticism  has  decided  that  he  \/as  also  some- 
thing of  a  patriot. 

The  rest  of  the  Whig  chiefs  decided  on  attempting  to 
kill  the  King,  at  Rye  House,  as  he  returned  from  New- 
market, which  he  always  did  on  a  Saturdays ;  "  The  Rye 
House  is  just  beyond  Hoddesden,  where  the  last  relay  of 
horses  and  guards  attended  the  King's  arrival,  and  his 
Majesty  loving  to  go  fast  on  the  road,  the  guards  at  the 
latter  end  of  a  stage,  trained  behind  and  kept  not  in  a 
body  " ;  but  the  King  did  not  come  on  the  day  appointed, 
the  plot  was  betrayed  in  June,  1683,  to  the  King.  Russell 
and  Sidney  were  convicted  and  executed,  Essex  cut  his 
throat  in  the  Tower,  and  Monmouth  was  secretly  pardoned* 
Will  Legge  entreated  the  King  to  pardon  Russell,  alleging 
many  good  reasons.  Charles  replied  :  "  Ail  that  is  true  ; 
but  it  is  as  true,  that  if  I  do  not  take  his  life,  he  will  soon 
have  mine."  Sir  Henry  Capel,  Essex's  brother,  "  waited 
on  the  King,  and  was  so  weak  as  to  ask  leave  to  go  into 
mourning  for  his  brother.  The  King  in  a  despising  way 
rather  muttered  out,  *  You  may  do  as  you  please.* "  Ailes- 
bury  pleased  Charles  by  neatly  evading  the  responsibility 
of  taking  Monmouth,  who  had  fled  ;  and  he  tells  the  story 
of  the  Duke's  reconciliation  to  the  Kang  c.t  Mrs.  Croft's 
house ;  "  and  returning  from  Mrs.  Croft's  wrapt  up  in  a 
cloak.  Colonel  Griffin  (since  Lord)  espied  hici  in  a  passage, 
and  went  up  to  the  King  hastily  and  out  of  breath,  and 
told  him  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  was  in  the  Court,  and 
that  if  guards  were  sent  they  might  easily  take  him.  The 
King  answered,  with  a  disdainful  look:  *  You  are  a  fool ; 
James  is  at  Brussels.'  He  was  never  in  the  King's  graces^ 
but  after  that  officiousness,  he  could  never  bear  the  sight 
of  him." 

After  the  deaths  of  the  chief  conspirators,  the  Whig 
opposition  ceased,  never  to  revive  till  James  IPs  reign. 
Local  self-government  was  abolished,  and  ivery  place  of 
responsibility  throughout  the  kingdom  filled  with  King'^ 


i« 


, 


I 


ip 


240  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

men  ;  and  for  the  rest  of  his  life  Charles  ruled  peacefully 
without  a  Parliament,  having  attained  his  desire  of  abso- 
lute rule,  based  on  a  standing  army,  and  the  financial  help 
of  France,  though  also  on  Anglicanism  and  persecution  of 
Dissent.     For  the  rest  of  his   reign,   James,  Rochester, 
Barillon,  and  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  managed  affairs, 
opposed  continually,  though  for  some  time   ineffectually, 
by  Halifax.     Charles  rested  from  his  strenuous  political 
labours,  and  sauntered  in  his  inimitable  way,  to  all  appear- 
ances, though  meditating  and  in  part  carrying  out,  many 
reforms,  both  private  and  public ;  at  least,  according  to 
Ailesbury,  who  spoke  what  he  believed  to  be  the  truth. 
"  He  was  pleased  to  tell  me  in  1684,  that  at  Easter  1685, 
he  should  be  able  to  pay  the  Civil  List  and  the  arrears. 
It  is  understood  that  the  Guards  and  Garrison  and  the 
Navy  were  duly  paid.     And  that  if  God  gave  him  life,  his 
next  study  would   be  in  a  very  short  time,  to  pay  the 
Bankers*   debts.      *  Which,   God   knows,*  said   the   King, 
Mies  so  much  at  my  heart,  and  God  forgive  those  vile 
persons  that  were  the  cause  of  that  false  step  I  made,  to 
give  it  no  worse  a  term.'  ^      He  went  on  :    *  If  I  once 
accomplish  that,  I  shall  be  most  happy  ;  and  after  that,  by 
degrees,  I   will  take  into  consideration  the  most   crying 
debts  of  that  glorious  Martyr,  the  King  my  Father.*     I 
cannot  repeat  every  individual  word,  but  this  is  the  sub- 
stance of  what  he  told  me,  and  ended  that  he  knew  but 
too  well  what  it  was  to  want  money.     *  I  will  have  by  me 
a  hundred  thousand  guineas  in  my  strong  box.'     I  have 
been  told  there  was  found  at  his  death  about  sixty  thousand 
pounds.  ...  *  I  would  have  every  one  live  under  his  own 
vine  and  fig-tree.     Give  me  my  just  prerogative,  and  for 
subsidies,  I  will  never  ask  more,  unless  I  and  the  nation 

»  Charles  said  to  Shaftesbury's  face  that  he  had  been  one  of  the  first  to 
advise  him  to  close  the  Exchequer  ;  in  1672,  Shaftesbury  absolutely  denied 
this,  and  all  the  weight  of  evidence  is  in  the  Earl's  favour,  though  Burnet 
<i.  550)  agrees  with  Charles.  It  is  possible  that  the  King's  speech,  as  reported 
jby  Bruce,  refers  to  other  measures,  aad  not  that  of  the  Exchequer. 


WINCHESTER   PALACE 


241 


should  be  so  unhappy  as  to  have  a  war  on  ou  -  hands  ;  and 
that  at  most  may  be  one  summer's  business  i.t  sea."  One 
of  the  things  which  occupied  Charles  duiing  the  last 
months  of  his  life  was  the  building  of  his  new  palace  at 
Winchester ;  and  of  it  he  said  to  Ailesbury :  "  God'sfish, 
modesty  must  sooner  or  later  be  rewarded,  ind  when  'tis 
otherwise,  'tis  the  fault  of  the  sovereign,  and  not  of  the 
subject,  I  will  order  John  [  =  the  Earl  of  Bati]  to  put  you 
into  waiting  the  first  time  I  go  thither,  and  a  though  it  be 
not  your  turn,  that  I  may  show  you  the  plao;  I  delight  so 
in  ;  and  I  shall  be  so  happy  this  week  as  to  hive  my  house 
covered  with  lead."  This  was  Sunday  ni^ht,  and  the 
Saturday  following  he  was  embalmed.  The  King's  palace 
at  Winchester  recalls  his  hunting-lodge  at  Newmarket, 
built  by  Sir  Christopher  Wren ;  while  the  King  was 
inspecting  it,  he  said,  "the  rooms  were  too  low."  Sir 
Christopher,  a  little  man,  walked  round  thera  looking  up 
and  about  them,  and  said  :  "  I  think,  an  it  please  your 
Majesty,  they  are  high  enough."  Charles  then  stooped  to 
his  architect's  height,  and  walking  about  ihus,  replied: 
"Ay,  Sir  Christopher,  I  think  they  are  high  enough." 
CXne  of  the  last  glimpses  of  the  King  befoni  his  death  is 
given  by  Evelyn :  "  I  can  never  forget  the  inexpressible 
luxury  and  prophaneness,  gaming  and  all  dissoluteness, 
and  as.it  were  totall  forgetfullnesse  of  God  (it  l^eing  Sunday 
evening),  which  this  day  se'nnight  I  was  witnesse  of  the 
King  sitting  and  toying  etc.,  his  concubines  Portsmouth, 
Cleaveland,  and  Mazarine,  with  a  French  bo)'  singing  love 
songs,  in  that  glorious  gallery,  whilst  about  20  of  the  greate 
courtiers  and  other  dissolute  persons  were  at  basset  round 
a  large  table,  a  bank  of  at  least  2000  in  gold  before  them 
upon  which  two  gentlemen  who  were  with  me  made  re- 
flexions with  astonishment.  Six  days  after  was  all  in  the 
dust."  In  February,  1685,  the  King  was  taken  with  his  last 
illness,  the  various  reports  of  which  are  so  contradictory 
that  I  shall  be  somewhat  detailed  in  discussir  g  the  matter. 
In  January,  1685,  the  King  was  suffering  from  a  sore  in 


!l 


242 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


BEDCHAMBER   CUSTOMS 


!l 


I 


his  leg,*  "  which  looked  like  the  gout,"  and  this  prevented 
him  going  out  much,  so  that  he  spent  much  time  in  his 
laboratory,  running  a  process  for  the  fixation  of  mercury. 
When  he  took  the  air,  it  was  in  a  calkhe,  when  Bruce  had 
the  honour  to  attend  him  ;  and  Bruce  shall  tell  the  rest 
of  the  story,  as  far  as  possible,  in  his  own  words.     "  On 
Sunday  I  desired  my  father  that  he  would  attend  the 
King's  supper,  which  he  seldom  or  never  did,  by  reason 
he  lived  at  St.  John's,  Clerkenwell.    The  King  immediately 
spoke  to  him :  *  It  is  a  great  wonder,  my  lord,  for  to  see 
you  at  this  hour,  but  I  know  very  well  the  reason  I  never 
see  you ;  but  I  am  ashamed  that  I  have  not  given  you  more 
marks  of  my  favour.     But  I  will  make  it  up  to  your  son ; 
he  is   now  about  me,  and  we  shall  never  part!*     It  is 
not  to  be  expressed  the  transport  of  joy  my  father  was 
in,  and  the  old  courtiers  assured  me  that  they  never  saw 
the  King  so  well,  nor  in  so  good  a  humour.     He  did  eat 
with  an  excellent  stomach,  and  one  thing  very  hard  of 
digestion — a  goose  ^g'g^  if  not  two.     He  had  an  habitual 
custom  to  go  afterwards  to  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth's 
for  to  amuse  himself  with  the  company  that  ate  there, 
for  of  late  years  it  was  only  with  that  intent,  and  I  have 
good  reasons  to  believe  that  he  was  seeking  by  degrees  to 
have  her  retire.     After  I  had  supped  I  found  him  there, 
and  in  the  most  charming  humour  possible.  .  .  .  When  we 
come  to  the  district  of  the  bedchamber,  I  by  my  office  was 
to  light  him  to  the  bedc:hamber   door,   and   giving  the 
candle  to  the  page  of  the  backstairs  it  went  out,  though 
a  very  large  wax  candle   and   without  any  wind.     The 
page  of  the  backstairs  was  more  superstitious,   for  he 

»  Lord  Lansdowne  ( W^x.,  ij.  2(0)  says,  a  running  sore  in  the  leg,  and  that 
the  King  hastened  his  own  death  by  treating  it  with  quack  medicines 
(Burnet,  ij.  456,  n.  l).  Bruce  sa>s  :  "  A  small  sore  on  one  heel."  Burnet 
remarks  that  "  All  this  winter  the  King  looked  better  than  he  had  done  for 
many  years,"  and  calls  the  sore  "  a  humour "  (ij.  454),  and  says  later:  "he 
came  to  Ly.  P.'s  at  night,  and  called  for  a  porringer  of  spoon  meat.  It  was 
made  too  strong  for  his  stomach.  So  he  eat  little  of  it,  and  he  had  an  unquiet 
night "  (p.  456). 


243 


looked  on  me,  shaking  his  head.  The  King  always 
lying  in  his  own  bedchamber,  we  had  a  bed  placed  each 
night  to  be  near  him,  and  when  the  page  oi"  the  backstairs 
lighted  us  from  the  room  where  we  undressed,  on  his 
retiring  we  shut  up  the  door  on  the  inside  with  a  brass 
knob,  and  so  went  to  bed.  Several  circumstances  made 
the  lodging  very  uneasy—the  great  grate  being  filled  with 
Scotch  coal  that  burnt  all  night,  a  dozen  dogs  that  came 
to  our  bed,  and  several  pendulums  that  struck  at  the 
half,  quarter,  and  all  not  going  alike,  it  ^zs  a  continual 
chiming.  The  King  being  constantly  used  to  it,  it  was 
habitual.  I  sleeping  but  indifferently,  perceived  that  the 
King  turned  himself  sometimes,  not  usual  for  him;  he 
always  called  in  the  morning  of  himself;  I  Jieard  his  voice, 
but  discovered  not  any  imperfection.^  We  bad  the  liberty 
to  go  to  his  bedside  in  the  morning  before  anybody  came 
in,  and  might  entertain  him  with  discourse  at  pleasure, 
and  ask  of  him  anything.  Unfortunately  a  certain  modesty 
possessed  me,^  and  besides  we  had  his  ear  whenever  we 
pleased.  So  I  arose  and  turned  back  the  trass  knob,  and 
the  under  ones  came  in  to  make  the  fire,  £.nd  I  retired  to 
dress  myself  in  our  room.  Passing  by  in  the  next  room 
to  the  bed-chamber,  I  found  there  the  physicians  and 
chirurgeons  that  attended  to  visit  his  heel.  Mr.  Robert 
Howard,^  a  Groom  of  the  Bedchamber,  came  to  me  and 
asked  me  how  the  King  had  slept,  and  if  c:uietly.  I  told 
him  that  he  had  turned  sometimes.  "Lord!"  said  he, 
"  that  is  an  ill  mark,  and  contrary  to  his  custom  I "  and 
then  told  me  that  at  rising  he  could  not,  or  would  not,  say 
one  word,*  that  he  was  as  pale  as  ashes,  and  gone  to  his 
private  closet.  On  which  I  came  away  presently  and  sent 
in  Mr.  Chiffins,  the  first  page  of  the  backstairs,  and  keeper 

*  Bruce  may  have  been  too  sleepy  at  that  moment. 

'  I.e,  or  else  I  might  have  seen  at  once  that  he  was  ill. 
'  Called  "  Thorn  Howard  by  Lyttelton  (cf.  over).; 

*  In  this  interval,  perhaps.  Dr.  King  first  saw  him  and  spoke  to  him,  and 
bemg  disturbed  by  the  King's  broken  discourse,  went  3ut  and  told  Lord 
Peterborough,  who  told  him  to  go  in  again  (Burnet,  ij.  4S(.). 


f? 


'I' 


244 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 


of  his  closet,  for  to  beg  of  him  to  come  to  his  chamber, 
for  a  more  bitter  morning  I  never  felt,  and  he  only  in  his 
nightgown.  Mr.  Chiffins  telling  me  he  minded  not  what 
he  said,  I  sent  him  in  again  (for  no  other  had  that  liberty), 
on  which  he  came  out  pale  and  wan,  and  had  not  the 
liberty  of  his  tongue,  for  the  Earl  of  Craven,  Colonel  of 
the  Footguards,  being  there  to  take  the  word,  he  showed 
him  the  paper  where  the  days  of  the  month  were  set  down 
with  the  word  ;  and  others  spoke  to  him,  but  he  answered 
nothing.  It  being  shaving  day,  his  barber  told  him  all 
was  ready.  He  always  sat  with  his  knees  against  the 
window,  and  the  barber  having  fixed  the  linen  on  one  side, 
went  behind  the  chair  to  do  the  same  on  the  other,  and  I 
standing  close  to  the  chair,  he  fell  into  my  arms  in  the 
most  violent  fit  of  apoplexy.  Dr.  King,  and  he  had  been 
a  chirurgeon,  happened  to  be  in  the  room  of  his  own 
accord,  the  rest  having  retired  before.  I  asked  him  if  he 
had  any  lancets,  and  he  replying  he  had,  I  ordered  him 
to  bleed  the  King  without  delay,  which  he  did ;  ^  and 
perceiving  the  blood,  I  went  to  fetch  the  Duke  of  York, 
who  came  so  on  the  instant  that  he  had  one  shoe  and  one 
slipper.  At  my  return  with  the  Duke,  the  King  was  in 
bed,  and  in  a  pretty  good  state,  and  on  going  on  the 
contrary  side  [to]  where  the  Duke  was,  he  perceiving  me, 
took  me  fast  by  the  hand,  saying:  *  I  see  you  love  me  dying 

*  Cf.  Sir  Chas.  Lyttelton  to  Chas.  Hatton,  3  February,  1685  :  **  Yester- 
day as  the  King  was  dressing  [Monday  2  February],  he  was  seized  with  a 
convulsion  fit  and  gave  a  great  scream  and  fell  into  his  chair.  Dr.  King 
happening  to  be  present,  with  great  jud|;ement  and  courage  (though  he  be  not 
his  sworn  physician)  without  other  advice^  immediately  let  him  blood  himself 
...  he  went  into  his  closset  in  his  goune,  and  stayed  half  an  hower  alone, 
and  Thorn  Howard  desired  Will  Chiffing  to  goe  to  him,  but  he  would  not  let 
him  come  in,  and  as  soon  as  he  came  out,  the  convulsion  seized  him.  .  .  .  The 
physicians  conclude  the  sore  on  his  heele  was  ye  goute  and  the  applying 
plasters  to  it  repelled  ye  humour  to  his  head."  [I  have  italicized  words 
which  supply  gaps  in,  or  contradict,  IBruce.]  Evelyn  notes  that  Dr.  King 
must  have  a  regular  pardon  granteti  him,  as  he  did  not  wait  for  some  sworn 
doctor's  advice.  King  was  voted  /^looo  by  the  Privy  Council,  which,  how- 
ever, was  never  paid  him.  Burnet  says  of  the  fit ;  "  he  looked  black,  and  his 
eyes  turned  in  his  head  "  (ij.  456). 


BRUCE'S  NARRATIVE 


245 


as  well  as  living,'  and  thanked  me  heartily  for  the  orders  I 
gave  Dr.  King  (who  was  knighted  for  that  service)  to  bleed 
him,  as  also  for  sending  Mr.  Chiffins  to  persuade  him  to 
come  out  of  his  closet ;  and  then  told  me  that  he  found 
himself  not  well,  and  that  he  went  to  take  some  of  his 
drops  commonly  called  the  "King's  Drops,"  and  that  he 
walked  about  hoping  to  be  better,  but  on  m}^  solicitations 
he  came  down  (for  there  were  three  or  four  steps  coming 
out  of  the  closet),  and  he  said  that  coming  cown  his  head 
turned  round  and  he  was  in  danger  of  fal  ing.  I  have 
been  so  prolix  in  this  account,  by  reason  it  hath  been  so 
maliciously  and  with  malignine  industry  spre  id  about,  that 
the  King  had  been  poisoned  ;  and  those  inventing  devils 
would  have  brought  me  into  the  knowledge  of  it ;  and  on 
the  Monday  the  King  was  seemingly  recovered  by  that 
bleeding.  The  whole  town  and  city  sung  my  praises  for 
being  the  sole  instrument  by  the  orders  I  gave  Dr.  King, 
and  so  little  must  one  regard  what  they  call  :he  cry  of  the 
people.  The  Queen  came  forthwith  to  the  King  ^  and  her 
concern  and  deportment  was  beyond  what  I  can  describe. 
He  continued  so  well  on  Tuesday,^  the  next  day,  that  the 
messengers  were  sent  into  every  county  for  to  carry  the 
h  appy  news  ;  but  God  knows  the  joy  was  n  Dt  lasting,  for 
on  Wednesday  in  the  evening  he  fell  into  1  cold  sweat, 
and  the  physicians  declared  that  he  was  in  imminent 
danger." 8     Qn  Thursday   "about   noone,   tlie    physitians 

*  Bruce,  in  a  letter  printed  in  the  European  Magazine,  5  xvij.  22,  says  that 
when  he  and  the  Duke  of  York  returned,  "we  found  the  Queen  there,  and 
the  impostor  says  it  was  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth."  The  King's  first  words 
on  recovering  consciousness  on  Monday  are  said  to  have  teen  to  ask  for  the 
Queen.     (Ellis,  Original  Letters,  No.  382,  vol.  iij.  p.  337.) 

*  Evelyn  (ij.  442)  says  :  "He  still  complain'd,  and  wis  relapsing,  often 
fainting,  with  sometimes  epileptic  symptoms,  till  Wednesday,  for  which  he 
M^ascupp'd,  let  blood  in  both  jugulars,  had  both  vomit  aid  purges,  wch  so 
reliev'd  him  that  on  Thursday  hopes  of  recovery  were  sign  fied  in  the  public 
Gatette.  ...» 

*  Sir  Chas.  Lyttelton  says  that  at  8  o'clock  on  Wedresday  evening  the 
disease  seemed  to  have  fallen  on  the  King's  lungs,  "whici  makes  him  labor 
to  breath,  and  I  see  nothing  but  sad  lookcs  come  out  from  Idm.'* 


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246  CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 

thought  him  feaverish.   This  they  seemed  glad  of,  as  being 
more  easily  allay'd  and  methodically  dealt  with  than  his 
former  fit ;  so  they  prescribed  the  famous  Jesuits'  powder ; 
but  it  made  him  worse,  and  some  very  able  doctors  who 
were  present  did  not  think  it  a  fever,  but  the  effect  of  his 
frequent  bleeding  and  other  sharp  operations  us*d  by  them 
about  his  head,  so  that  probably  the  powder  might  stop 
the  circulation  and  renew  his  former  fits,  which  now  made 
him  very  weak/'  ^    The  "  sharp  operations  "  amounted  to 
horrible  tortures,  which  the  King  had  to  undergo  through 
the  anxious  ignorance  of  his  doctors.    Cantharides  plasters 
were  applied  to  his  head,  shoulders,  arms,  and  legs ;  hot 
pans  were   applied   to   his  head;  strong  spirits,  and  the 
"antimonial  cup"  were  given  him,  besides  the  remedies 
already  mentioned.    After  this  treatment,  the  statement  of 
Lyttelton    that    "he    was   not  dead"    seems  surprising, 
though  it  is  extremely  probable  that ''  he  expressed  great 
sense  by  his  groanes  all  y«  time."^     The  day  after  the 
stroke  (Tuesday)  the  plasters  were  all  taken  off,  except 
that  on  his  head,  and  his  mouth  and  tongue  and  throat 
became  very   much  inflamed    on  the  Thursday  "  with  y« 
hot  mediums,  which  is  y«  cause  he  has  bine  twice  let  blood 
since  noone ;  but  the  2nd  time  was  because  y*  first  was 
unsuccessful ;  and  he  bled  not  above  two  ounces,  which  was 
by  Pierce ;  y«  second  time  by  FIols,  and  then  he  bled  nine 
ounces.    The  phizicians  were  with  Councill  this  afternoon, 
and  told  them  they  beleeved  his  Majesty  in  a  condition  of 
safety." 8    "On  Thursday,  that  great  and  pious  prelate, 
Sandcroft,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  the  Bishops  in 
toun,*    came  to    offer   him   their  spiritual   service.    The 

*  Evelyn,  ij.  442, 

*  Luttrell  tells  us  :  he  had  every  night  since  his  illness  four  physicians  and 
two  chirurgeons  satt  up  with  him,  and  wai;  also  attended  in  like  manner  in  the 
day-time,  who  applied  such  things  as  they  thought  fitting.    {Brief  Relation ^  i.) 

*  Lyttleton,  ut  supra  x  Burnet,  ij.  458,  says:  "  On  Thursday  the  physicians 
told  the  duke  the  King  was  not  like  to  live;  a  day  to  an  end."  This  would  be 
later. 

*  According  to  Evelyn,  the  Bishops  of  London,  Durham,  Ely,  and  Bath 
and  Wells.    James  II.  says,  two  Bishops. 


THE  KING'S  RELIGION 


247 


Archbishop  was  of  a  timid  temper  and  had  a  low  voice, 
and  Bishop  Ken  the  contrary,  and  like  to  a  nightingale  for 
the  sweetness  of  it,  so  he  was  desired  by  the  rest  to  per- 
suade the  King  to  hearken  to  them.  The  Bling  thanked 
them  very  much,  and  told  them  that  it  was  time  enough 
or  somewhat  to  that  purpose,  and  modestly  \^aived  them, 
which  was  in  my  hearing."  About  this  time  the  King 
complained  that  he  felt  as  if  a  fire  were  burning  within 
him,  and  the  sight  of  his  sufferings  so  much  afflicted  the 
Queen,  that  she  had  to  be  taken  fainting  to  her  room. 
"The  Bishops  reading  the  prayers  appointed  in  the  Common 
Prayer  Book  on  that  occasion,  when  they  camt;  to  the  place 
where  usually  they  exhort  a  sick  person  to  mike  a  confes- 
sion of  his  sins,  the  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wellj:  .  .  .  adver- 
tized him,  It  was  not  of  obligation;  and  after  a  short 
exhortation  asked  him  if  he  was  sorry  for  his  sins  ?  which 
the  King  saying  he  was,  the  Bishop  pronounced  the 
Absolution,  and  then  asked  him  if  he  pleased  to  receive 
the  Sacrament }  to  which  the  King  made  no  reply,  and 
being  pressed  by  the  Bishop  several  times,  gave  no  other 
answer,  but  that  it  was  time  enough,  or  tfcat  he  would 
think  of  it."  ^  Meanwhile  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  had 
been  talking  to  the  French  Ambassador  Barillon,  to  this 
effect :  "  M.  I'ambassadeur,  I  have  come  to  tell  you  the 
greatest  possible  secret,  and  if  it  were  known,  I  should  lose 
my  head.  The  King  of  England  at  the  bottom  of  his 
heart  is  a  Catholic,  but  he  is  surrounded  with  Protestant 
Bishops,  and  no  one  tells  him  of  his  condition  or  speaks  to 
him  of  God.  I  can  no  longer  enter  his  room  with  any 
decency,  especially  as  the  queen  is  there  almost  constantly. 
M.  le  due  d'York  thinks  of  his  own  business,  and  has 
too  much  of  it,  to  be  as  careful  as  he  ought  to  be  of 
the  King's  conscience.  Go  and  say  that  I  have  im- 
plored you  to  tell  him    to    think  of  what  <:an  be  done 

*  Clarke's  James  11. 

'  Burnet  (followed  by  Macaulay),  ij.  457 :  "  Lady  Port  ;mouth  sat  in  the 
bed,  taking  care  of  him  as  a  wife  of  a  husband."    (Almost  cerUinly  untrue.) 


i 


\-' 


248  CHARLES   II  AND   HIS  COURT 

to  save  the  King  his  brother's  souI."»  And  now 
Barillon  entered  the  King's  room,  took  the  Duke  of 
York  aside,  and  delivered  the  Duchess'  message.  The 
Duke,  commanding  the  crowd  to  stand  aloof,  whispered  to 
Charles,  who  replied  audibly  :  "  Yes,  yes,  with  all  my  heart." 
"  Shall  I  bring  a  priest  ?  "  "  Do,  brother,  for  God's  sake, 
do,  and  lose  no  time.  But  no  ;  you  will  get  into  trouble." 
"  If  it  costs  me  my  life,  I  will  fetch  a  priest."  «  At  length, 
after  some  fruitless  errands  and  consequent  delay,  Chiffinch 
brought  Father  Huddleston,  disguised  in  a  cloak  and 
periwig,  up  the  backstairs ;  "  and  as  soon  as  he  had  pre- 
pared everything  that  was  necessary,  the  duke  whispered 
the  King  in  the  ear."  Upon  that  ^  "  the  King  commanded 
them  all  to  retire  out  of  the  room,  telling  them  that  he  had 
something  to  communicate  to  his  brother/'*  All  retired 
except  the  Earls  of  Bath  and  Feversham.^  "  As  soon  as  the 
King  saw  the  Father  come  in,  he  cried  out :  '  You  that 
saved  my  body  is  now  come  to  save  my  soul ! '  ^  This  is 
literally  true  on  a  Christian.  I  have  my  opinions  to  myself, 
but  I  hate  a  lie  and  to  impose."  The  King  "  proceeded  to 
make  a  confession  of  his  whole  life  with  exceeding  tender- 
ness of  heart,  and  pronounced  an  act  of  contrition  with 
great  piety  and  compunction ;  in  this  he  spent  about  an 
hour,'  and  having  desired  to  receive  all  the  succours  fit  for 
a  dying  man,  he  continued  making  pious  ejaculations,  and 
frequently  lifting  up  his  hands,  cried  :  "  Mercy,  sweet  Jesus, 
mercy,"   till  the  priest   was   ready  to  give  him  extreme 

'  Fomeron,  Louise  dt  KerouailU^  pp.  1 23-4  (Fr.  ed.). 

*  Macaulay,  i, 

'  Burnet,  ij.  45-8  :  Macaulay,  i. 

*  Ham's  Chas,  ij. ;  ij.  391.  Letter  of  Aprice  a  priest,  quoted  in  Burnet. 
ij.  458,  n.  2. 

*  Burnet,  ij.  458  :  Ailesbury.  Macpherson  (i.  421)  says  that  the  Earl  of 
Bath  and  Capt.  Trevannion  of  the  (Guards  were  the  only  persons  present 
besides  the  Duke. 

•Burnet  (ij.  459) :  "  It  was  given  out  that  the  King  said  to  Huddleston, 
that  he  had  saved  him  twice,  first  his  t»ody,  now  his  soul." 

Burnet  (ij.  458) :  "The  company  was  kept  out  half  an  hour ;"  but  he 
wishes  to  show  that  the  last  rites  were  perfunctorily  performed. 


LAST   RITES 


249 


unction  ;  the  blessed  Sacrament  being  come  by  that  time 
this  was  ended,^  he  asked  his  Majesty  if  he  desired  to 
receive  it?  who  answered,  He  did,  most  earnestly,  if  he 
thought  him  worthy  of  it.  Accordingly,  tie  priest  after 
some  further  preparations  going  about  to  give  it  him,  he 
raised  himself  up,  and  said:  "Let  me  meet  my  heavenly 
Lord  in  a  better  posture  than  lying  on  my  b(;d ;"  but  being 
desired  not  to  discompose  himself,  he  recited  the  act  of 
contrition,  and  then  received  with  great  piety  md  devotion,"  ^ 
though  he  found  so  much  difficulty  in  swallc  wing  the  Host, 
that  the  double-locked  chamber-door  had  to  be  opened  and 
water  got 8:  "after  which  Father  Huddlestcn  making  him 
a  short  exhortation,  left  him  in  so  much  peace  of  mind  that 
he  looked  approaching  death  in  the  face  with  all  imaginable 
tranquillity  and  Christian  resolution.  The  company  being 
then  called  in  again,*  His  Majesty  expressed  the  greatest 
kindness  and  tenderness  for  the  Duke  that  could  possibly 
be  conceived  ;  he  owned  in  the  most  public  manner  the 
sense  he  had  of  his  brotherly  affection  du-ing  the  whole 
course  of  his  life,  and  particularly  in  this  Jast  action  ;  he 
commended  his  great  submission  and  constant  obedience 
to  all  his  commands,  and  asked  him  pardon  aloud  for  the 
rigorous  treatment  he  had  so  long  exercised  his  patience 
with;  all  which  he  said  in  so  affecting  a  manner,  as  drew 
floods  of  tears  from  all  that  were  present ;  he  spoke  most 
tenderly  to   the   Queen   too";^   and  now  the  Dukes  of 

*  Higgons,  Remarks,  280,  says  that  the  Host  was  broaght  from  Somerset 
House  Chapel.  Burnet  (ij.  458)  says  Huddleston  broaght  it  with  him,  having 
gone  to  another  priest  living  at  court  [some  said  the  Porti  guese  ambassador's 
chaplain],  who  gave  him  the  pix  with  an  hostie  in  it ;  but  that  the  poor  priest 
was  so  frighted,  that  he  ran  out  of  Whitehall  in  such  histe  that  he  struck 
against  a  post,  and  seemed  to  be  in  a  fit  of  madness  vith  fear."  (James* 
account  is  more  likely.) 

*  James  II. 

*  Burnet,  ij.  459. 

*  Burnet  places  the  exhortations  of  Ken  and  the  others  here;  and  adds 
the  King's  remark  that  "  he  hoped  he  should  climb  up  to  heaven's  gate  " 
(ij.  461). 

*  James  II. 


\\ 


(  1 


) 


250  CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 

Grafton,  Southampton,  Northumberland,  St.  Albans,  and 
Richmond,  were  brought  in,  and  Charles  blessed  them, 
recommended  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  "  over  and  over 
again  "  and  her  son  to  the  Duke  of  York,  and  said,  "  Do  not 
let  poor  Nelly  starve  "  ^ ;  "  in  fine  he  left  nothing  unsaid  or 
undone,  that  so  small  a  time  would  allow  either  to  reconcile 
himself  with  God,  or  to  make  satisfaction  to  those  he  had 
injured  upon  earth,  disposing  himself  with  the  piety  and 
unconcernedness  becoming  a  Christian,  and  the  resolution 
becoming  a  King."  2  when  the  King  blessed  his  children, 
"some  that  were  in  the  room  cried  out,  that  the  King  was 
their  common  father,  and  upon  that,  all  kneeled  down  for 
his  blessing,  which  he  gave  them."  3  «  He  gave  his  breeches 
and  keys  to  the  Duke,  who  was  almost  continually  kneeling 
by  his  bed-  side,  and  in  teares."  *  In  the  last  hours,  the 
Queen  became  too  exhausted  to  attend  him,  and  sent  to  ask 
pardon  for  any  offence  she  might  unwittingly  have  given 
her  husband :  "  She  ask  my  pardon,  poor  woman  ! "  said 
Charles;  "I  ask  hers  with  all  my  heart." ^  "Thus  he 
passed  Thursday  night  with  greate  difficulty,  when  com- 
plaining of  a  pain  in  the  side,  they  drew  12  ounces  more  of 
blood  from  him  ;  this  was  by  six  in  the  morning  on  Friday, 
and  it  gave  him  reliefe,  but  it  did  not  continue,  for  being 
now  in  much  paine,  and  strugling  for  breath,  he  lay  dozing."  ^ 
At  intervals  during  the  last  hours  the  King  bade  the 
attendants  draw  back  the  curtains,  that  he  might  have  one 
more  look  at  the  day.  He  also  said  that  it  was  time  to 
wind  up  a  clock  that  stood  near  his  bed  ;  and  finally  :  «  He 
had  been  a  most  unconscionable  time  a-dying,  but  he  hoped 

»  Cunningham,  p.  182.    Evelyn,  ij.  444.    Cf.  Burnet,  who  says  that  Ken 
commended  the  Duke  of  Richmond  to  the  King.     He  also  remarks  on  the 
calm  and  constancy  "  of  the  King  in  his  last  hours  (ij.  459). 
*  James  II. 


'  Burnet,  ij.  460. 

*  Evelyn,  ij.  444. 

'  Burnet,  ij.  457,  n. 

195. 

*  Evelyn,  ij.  44^5. 


I.      Ellis,  OngincU  Letttrs^  iij.  337.     Cunningham, 


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DEATH   OF   CHARLES  251 

they  would  excuse  it."*  Soon  after,  his  senses  began  to 
fail  him,  and  he  lay  unconscious  and  breathing  stertorously  ; 
and  "just  at  high  water  and  full  moon  at  nooa  he  expired, 
and  though  I  bore,  and  according  to  my  duty,  all  high  duty 
and  respect  towards  his  royal  successor,  I  must  say  that 
thus  ended  my  happy  days  at  a  Court,  and  to  this  hour  I 
bewail  my  loss,  that  of  the  three  kingdoms.  God's  will  be 
done  on  earth  as  in  heaven ! "  ^  So  Sir  J  Dhn  Reresby 
speaks  of  his  "  great  and  good  master — who  is  j  jone  " ;  ^  and 
North  says  of  the  time :  "  We  walked  about  Uke  ghosts, 
generally  to  and  from  Whitehall.  We  met  few  persons 
without  passion  in  their  eyes,  as  we  also  had.  We  thought 
of  no  concerns,  public  or  private,  but  were  contented  to 
live  and  breathe  as  if  we  had  nought  else  to  do  but  to  expect 
the  issue  of  this  grand  crisis.* "  There  was  a  post-mortem 
examination  of  the  King's  body,  and  general  suspicion  at 
the  time  inclined  towards  poison  as  the  cause  of  his  death. 
His  funeral  was  quiet  and  ordinary,  owing  t3  the  King's 
dying  in  the  Catholic  religion,  but  all  the  Privy  Council, 
all  the  household,  and  all  the  Lords  about  town  attended 
at  the  funeral,  the  great  officers  breaking  the  r  staves  over 
the  grave,  which  was  in  a  vault  under  Henry  VH's  Chapel 
at  Westminster,  on  the  night  of  14  February,  1685.^ 

*  Cunningham  p.  125.    Macaulay,  i. 

*  Ailesbury,  pp.  87-91. 

*  Reresby. 

*  North,  Autobiography. 

*  James  II,  ij.  6,  and  Evelyn,  ij.  449. 


CHAPTER    IX 
THE     COURT 

**  A  very  merry,  dancing,  drinking. 
Laughing,  quaflSng,  and  unthinking  time." 

Dryden,  Secular  Masque^  11.  39-40. 

A  week  in  a  courtier*s  life— The  great  men  at  Court— James,  Duke 
of  York— Henry,  Duke  of  Gloucester— The  Duke  of  Buckingham— 
The  Duke  of  Lauderdale— The  Earl  of  Rochester  and  Sir  Charles 
Sedley— Earl  of  Dorset— "Mob  of  Gentlemen  "—Prince  Rupert- 
Duke  and  Duchess  of  Newcastle— Two  Duchesses  of  York— Barbara 
Palmer— Anne  Fitzroy— Duchesu  Mazarin— Louise  de  Keroiialle— 
Nell  Gwyn— Character  of  Charles  IL 

BEFORE  considering  the  separate  persons  of  the 
Court,  a  week  in  a  courtier's  life  may  be  an 
interesting  study.  **  This  morning  we  awake  about 
8  o'clock  and  have  a  cup  of  chocolate  before  rising  at  9.  We 
are  then  attended  by  our  valet  and  barber,  and  after  the 
duties  of  the  toilet,  read  and  answer  some  billet-doux. 
After  this  pleasant  task,  we  stroll  out  to  Whitehall  Gardens, 
and  meet  our  friends  in  idle  gossip  about  the  great  sun- 
dial ;  as  we  stand  here,  a  dark  and  formal  man,  wearing  a 
black  lozenge  of  plaster  across  his  nose,  walks  by,  bowing 
distantly  to  some  of  our  group.  This  is  Henry  Bennet, 
Lord  Arlington,  whom  we  have  seen  before  in  Coin  and 
Spain,  and  his  grandeeship  has  in  truth  the  right  Spanish 
air  of  gravity,  concealing,  as  some  say,  but  little  brains. 
The  first  newcomer  to  join  our  company  is  my  Lord  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  hot  and  flushed  from  his  elaboratory, 
where  he  seeks  the  elixir  vitce  and  the  aurum  potabile.    His 


S.  JAMES*  PARK 


253 


head  is  full  of  a  new  scheme  for  fixing  mercury,  a  new 
amour,  and  a  new  way  of  burning  muscadel  all  of  which 
he  pours  forth  to  us  at  once.  Presently,  most  of  us  turn 
towards  S.  James*  Park,  when  we  see  the  Ki  ig  sauntering 
along  to  meet  us,  accompanied  by  a  train  of  little  dogs, 
and  wearing  a  coat  much  behind  the  fashion.  After  our 
first  respectful  greeting,  he  begins  a  con\ersation  with 
Sedley  and  Buckingham,  in  which  he  soon  manages  to 
include  us  all,  and  it  is  a  merry  company  that  enters  the 
Park.  His  Majesty  proposes  a  game  of  Pall-Mall,  so 
we  all  proceed  to  the  Mall,  not  altogether  willingly,  for 
the  morning  is  warm  still,  when  we  gain  :he  smoothly- 
gravelled  walk,  we  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  some  very 
good  play  by  the  King,  Buckingham,  and  Bab  May. 

"Bab  ventures  to  suggest  to  His  Majesty  that  we  should 
go  to  the  water-fowl,  as  in  his  capacity  of  keeper,  he  is 
a  little  anxious  about  the  health  of  some  new  arrivals,  a 
fine  goose  and  gander  from  the  River  Gambo  in  the  East 
Indies.  So  we  stroll  along  by  the  canil  where  we 
skated  last  winter, — those  of  us  at  least  who  learnt  the  art 
during  our  exile  in  Holland, — and  approach  the  home  of 
the  King's  animals  and  birds.  By  the  first  pool  we  see  Mr. 
Evelyn,  watching  the  pelican,  a  melancho'y  water-fowl, 
brought  from  Astracan  by  the  Russian  Ambassador,  and 
even  more  greedy  than  the  solan-geese.  A  white  raven 
flutters  up  croaking,  and  close  behind  him  some  red-billed 
jackdaws,  or  choughs  as  our  Cornish  neighbc»urs  call  them, 
a  present  from  my  Lord  Hatton  :  most  o;f  us,  however, 
are  chiefly  interested  in  the  Balearian  crane,  who  has  had 
a  broken  leg  cut  off  above  the  knee,  and  a  bos  wood  leg  and 
thigh  substituted,  with  a  joint  so  accurately  made,  that  the 
bird  uses  it  as  if  it  were  natural.  As  one  or  two  of  the 
company  inspect  the  deer,  the  elks,  stags,  antelopes,  roe- 
bucks, Guinea  goats  and  Arabian  sheep,  the  King  is 
pointing  out  the  new  device  upon  which  he  and  Bab  May 
have  fallen,  of  having  withy-pots  as  nesis,  just  above 
the  surface  of  the  water,  for  the  water-fowl  1:o  lay  in.      As 


I" 

I 


^ 


254 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS  COURT 


we  walk  out  of  the  park,  we  notice  that  the  orange-trees 
are  coming  on  very  well, 

"  The  King  dismisses  us  with  a  gracious  smile,  and  walks 
to  his  own  apartments  ;  some  of  us  remain  in  the  shady  park, 
others  take  boat  at  Whitehall  stairs  and  go  dine  with 
friends.  Immediately  after  dinner,  we  make  visits  to  ladies 
of  our  acquaintance,  some  going  to  Miss  Stuart's,  and 
finding  there  Lord  Rochester  and  Sir  George  Etheredge, 
building  card-houses  against  each  other.  At  3  o'clock, 
we  go  to  the  King's  Theatre  to  see  Hart  and  Mohun 
act  We  pay  money  for  our  boxes, — contrary  to  the 
custom  of  some  habituds,  who  are  engaging  in  a  warfare 
of  words  with  the  doorkeepers  as  to  whether  they  will  pay 
then  or  later, — and  enter  the  theatre,  finding  already  many 
ladies  and  gentlemen  seated  in  the  boxes  and  on  the  forms, 
listening  to  the  French  music,  which  has  been  playing 
some  time  to  the  early  arrivals.  The  ground-floor  is  now 
boarded  and  the  boxes  carpeted,  though  we  can  remember 
the  time,  before  Tom  Killigrew  came  to  the  front,  when 
rushes,  rushes,  were  your  only  strewing.  Now,  too,  the 
theatre  has  a  glass  roof  and  a  cupola,  though  these  are  so 
thin  that  heavy  rain  or  hail  comes  through, — and  a  storm 
was  threatening  as  we  entered.  The  play  is  a  new  one, 
and  the  King  and  the  Duke  of  York  have  given  some  old 
state-robes  to  the  actors,  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  has 
with  usual  display  and  generosity,  capped  the  King's 
;^500  with  a  gift  of  £700 ;  so  we  expect  to  see  a  very 
finely  presented  play. 

"  Meanwhile,  we  look  round  to  see  whom  we  know  in 
the  audience,  recognizing  with  no  particular  joy  some 
unpleasantly  familiar  citizens'  faces  in  the  18^.  or  12^. 
seats,  and  thank  our  stars  that  we  can  detain  Orange  Moll 
and  her  assistant  wenches  longer,  and  with  less  chance  of 
being  cheated  for  our  pains,  than  the  bourgeoisie.  Orange 
Moll  stands  with  her  back  to  the  stage,  and  cracks  a  few 
smart  jests  with  us,  while  another  girl  near  us  sells  a 
gallant  twelve  oranges  at  6d,  each,  which  on  buying  he 


THE  THEATRE 


255 


distributes  to  the  ladies  nearest  him,  and  then  settles 
himself  to  loll  in  the  girl's  lap,  till  the  curtai  n  shall  go  up. 
But  the  play  will  not  begin  yet,  for  their  Majesties  are 
still  to  come,  and  they  must  be  stayed  for.  Some  are  still 
employed  in  combing  their  periwigs,  and  ir  side-glassing 
the  ladies,  especially  one  who  is  languishing ^ly  lolling  her 
head  against  the  side  of  her  box.  The  theatre  attendants 
and  a  few  link-boys  light  the  wax  candles,  and  the  ten 
fiddlers  of  the  orchestra  burst  into  a  fresh  tune,  as  my 
Lord  Duke  of  Buckingham  and  a  crowd  of  courtiers  enter. 
His  Grace  takes  a  box  near  Harry  Killegrew,  who  leans 
over  and  jests  with  him,  becoming  at  len^fth  somewhat 
severe  and  impertinent,  and  finally  striking  my  Lord  Duke 
on  the  head  with  his  sheathed  sword,  whereat  the  Duke 
leaps  out  of  his  box  and  gives  chase  to  the  now  fleeing 
Harry ;  the  Duke's  wig  flies  off,  but  he  does  not  stop  till 
he  has  caught,  cuffed,  and  kicked  out  Killegrew.  Just  as 
things  are  settling  down,  their  Majesties,  with  a  brilliant 
train,  enter  the  theatre,  the  curtain  rises,  a  saucy  actress 
bounds  on  to  the  stage  in  a  sheperdess'  costume,  and 
speaks  a  witty  prologue,  so  full  of  doubles  vntendres,  that 
many  ladies  in  the  pit  put  on  their  black  majiks  at  once,  to 
hide  their  blushes.  After  the  first  act,  we  are  amused  by 
the  tricks  of  a  Fop,  bien  gantS  et  trh  ^eilU,  who  has  left 
his  noisy  cdterie  in  Fop-Corner  opposite  to  us,  to  sit  next  a 
fascinating  vizard-mask  in  the  pit,  just  belov^  us  :  he  is,  to 
amuse  himself  and  the  lady,  rapping  people  on  the  back, 
twirling  their  hats,  and  the  like,  and  then  looking  demurely, 
as  if  he  did  not  do  it.  During  the  second  act,  Sedley  and 
a  lady  near  him  talk  so  loud  that  we  hardly  enow  whether 
to  be  angry  because  we  are  losing  the  dialogue  on  the 
stage,  or  amused  at  the  wittiness  of  thein.  Some  idle 
fellows  come  in  late  in  the  middle  of  this  act,  and  speak  to 
a  few  friends,  and  after  asking  *  What  play  do  they  play  .?' 
and  being  told  by  another  of  like  nature  witti  themselves, 
*  Some  confounded  play  or  other,'  they  go  out,  probably 
to  hasten  to  the  Duke's  Theatre,  and  do  tlie  like  there. 


f 


^t 


2S6  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS  COURT 

To  an  orchestral  piece  played  in  a  long  wait  between  two 
acts,  the  King  beats  time  with  his  feet,  and  talks 
animatedly  to  the  Queen.  My  lady  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
is  in  attendance  on  the  Queen,  and  looking  most  stormy ; 
nor  is  the  reason  far  to  seek,  for  Nell  Gwyn,  with  Buck- 
hurst  and  a  French  Marquis  are  present  in  a  side-box,  and 
the  glances  which  pass  between  her  and  His  Majesty  are 
many.  Soon  the  expected  storm  outside  breaks,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  the  unhappy  people  in  the  centre  of  the  pit 
are  drenched,  and  have  to  fly  for  standing-room  at  the 
back.  At  five  o'clock  the  play  ends,  and  as  we  go  out  we 
comment  on  Killegrew's  new  Italian  scenery,  so  well- 
painted,  and  apparently  so  easy  to  move.  We  retire 
behind  the  scenes  to  talk  with  Mrs.  Knipp,  Mrs.  Brace- 
girdle,  Roxellana,  and  other  favourites  ;  some  even  discuss 
acting  and  literature  with  Hart  and  the  men. 

"  After  an  hour  or  so's  flirtation,  and  a  pint  of  wine  at  a 
tavern,  we  drive,  ride,  or  walk,  to  Hyde  Park,  and  take  our 
place  in  the  stream  of  carriages,  or  stroll   afoot   to  the 
Ring :  in  either  case  we  leave  our  lackeys  and  attendants 
outside  the  Park  Gates,  lest  they  should  inconveniently 
crowd  the  place.    We  meet  the  King  and  Queen,  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  of  York,  and  bow  low,  though  if  we  meet 
them  ever  so  often  again  this  evening,  we  need  not  repeat 
this  ;  so  to  a  lady  whom  we  know,  we  bow  on  first  passing, 
but  afterwards  make  no  cong6,  or  we   oflend   her.     We 
may,  however,  side-glass  her,  for  that  is  the  new  word: 
and  to  let  it  down  suddenly  on  passing,  is  very  passionate. 
Nevertheless,  His  Majesty  and  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland 
lolling  in  her  coach,  salute  each  other  at  every  turn.     The 
King  is  afoot,  the  Queen  in  a  glass  coach,  and  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  in  a  more  old-fashioned  caUche,    Presently  we 
hear  a  sound  of  crashing  glass,  and  looking  round  see  that 
my  Lady  Peterborough  in  her  haste   to  speak  to  Lady 
Mordaunt,  has  thrust  her  head  through  the  glass  of  her 
new  coach ;  and  a  lady  near  us  is  heard  congratulating 
herself  on  possessing  only  the  old-fashioned  tin  lattices  to 
her  equipage. 


TENNIS 


2S7 


"A  few  stay  after  nine  o'clock  in  the  Parli,  talking  to 
masked  ladies,  whom  they  know,  or  wish  to  know  •  but 
most  of  us  retire  earlier  to  Whitehall,  t  the  Queen's 
cabinet.  Here,  in  a  chamber  hung  with  blue  damask  with 
divisions  of  gold  lace,  and  lit  by  chandeliers,  we  find  her 
Majesty,  sitting  in  front  of  the  door,  talking  tD  a  circle  of 
ladies,  of  whom  the  wife  of  Habreu,  the  Portuguese  envoy, 
is  one.  The  King  and  his  brother  are  both  bere,  pacing 
up  and  down,  talking  cheerfully  to  any  of  the  gentlemen 
on  indifferent  subjects  ;  all  politics  and  busines<;  are  strictly 
forbidden  at  this  hour.  The  Queen  at  last  signifies  her 
wish  to  break  up  the  assembly,  and  many  of  us  go  down 
to  the  Groom-Porter's,  and  lose  our  money  against  my 
Lord  St.  Alban's  at  basset.  Others  leave  Whitehall  for 
our  lodgings,  a  tavern,  or  a  street  frolic. 

"The  next  day,  Sunday,  we  attend  service  in  his 
Majesty's  private  chapel,  where  the  King's  gravity  relaxes 
at  a  furiously  false  note  in  the  anthem,  and  disappears 
when  the  fiddlers  play  a  new  tune  execrably  ;  while  the 
Duke  has  spent  much  of  his  time  in  laughing  with  the 
Duchess  of  Cleveland  through  the  hangings  parting  his 
closet  from  that  of  the  ladies.  To-night  some  of  us  begin 
our  turn  of  bedchamber  duty ;  and  the  King  rouses  us  at 
five  in  the  morning  for  tennis  ;  he  plays  a  good  set  in  the 
Whitehall  Courts,  weighing  himself  before  anc  after  play, 
and  finding  that  he  has  lost  4J  lbs.  during  the  game. 
His  Majesty  and  Bab  May  play  Prince  iLupert  and 
Captain  Cooke,  just  winning.  During  the  game  the 
Prince  falls,  whereat  the  King  merrily  remarks  '  It  is  well 
the  court  is  new-built.'  After  tennis,  his  Majesty  takes  us 
all  for  a  grievously  fast  walk,  until  we  are  all  ready  to 
drop,  and  then  informs  us  that  the  Court  will  .^o  to  New- 
market to-morrow,  at  which  we  are  all  somewhat  aghast, 
as  there  is  a  Court  Ball  to-night ;  but  still,  we  must  put  a 
cheerful  face  on  these  serious  matters.  The  norning  we 
spend  as  far  as  possible  in  complete  idleness, — for  the 
King  requires  not  our  services,  as  being  ir  the  Privy 
s 


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258 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


NEWMARKET 


259 


Council  till  dinner ;  yet  a  few  are  stirring  enough  for  a 
game  of  bowls,  while  the  rest  look  on,  smoke,  drink  cider, 
and  bet  freely  on  the  sets.  In  the  afternoon,  a  cock-fight 
and  an  opera  at  the  Duke's  Theatre,  occupy  us  ;  and  later 
we  all  meet  again  in  Hyde  Park,  but  finding  it  very  dusty 
and  hot,  in  spite  of  the  trees  round  the  Ring,  we  go  to  the 
Stairs  and  take  a  short  row  on  the  river  before  the  Ball. 

"  The  Ballroom  is  filled  with  a  throng  of  all  the  Court 
dignitaries,  and  almost  immediately  the  King  and  Queen, 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  York,  Prince  Rupert,  and  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth  enter,  and  all  take  seats.  The  King 
leads  out  the  Duchess  of  York,  as  the  Queen  does  not  feel 
well ;  the  Duke  of  York  takes  the  Duchess  of  Bucking- 
ham ;  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  ; 
and  other  lords  other  ladies,  to  dance  the  Bransle,  or 
French  Brawl,  where  hands  are  taken  in  turn.  After  this, 
his  Majesty  takes  out  a  lady  for  a  single  coranto,  a  swift 
and  lively  dance,  which  the  King  dances  to  perfection  ; 
and  then  the  lords  lead  out  the  ladies,  a  very  noble  and 
pleasing  sight.  Presently  the  Comte  de  Gramont  enters 
in  a  neat  but  scarcely  brilliant  enough  suit ;  but  he  makes 
such  admirable  excuses,  and  tells  such  a  laughable  tale  to 
account  for  it,  that  all  stop  dancing  to  listen.  The  King 
next  calls  for  the  country  dances,  and  Cuckolds  all  arow 
for  the  first,  which  he  says  is  the  ancient  dance  of 
England.  When  the  King  dances,  all  the  ladies,  even  the 
Queen,  stand  up.  His  Majesty  always  arouses  our 
admiration,  as  the  best  dancer  at  Court ;  next  come  the 
Dukes  of  Buckingham  and  Monmouth,  and  the  Earls 
of  Arran  and  Feversham.  The  best  ladies  are  the 
Duchess  of  Monmouth,  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  and 
Sir  Henry  de  Vic*s  daughter.  We  break  up  about  mid- 
night, and  those  of  us  who  are  to  go  to  Newmarket 
to-morrow  go  to  bed  at  once,  except  such  as  are  of  the 
bedchamber ;  however,  luckily  for  them,  his  Majesty 
himself  retires  at  half  after  twelve. 

"  The  next  day,  we  ride  to  Newmarket  and  take  up  our 


respective  lodgings  in  the  town.     On  the  morrow  we  rise 

early  and  go  out  a  country  walk  with  the  King,  all  wearing 

plain  suits,  his  Majesty  only  distinguished  by  his  George 

and  ribbon.     After  breakfast,  we  course  the  hare  over  the 

Plain ;  and  after  dinner  come  the  horse-race? :  the  course 

is  marked  out  all  the  way  by  white  posts,  of  which  the  last 

pair  are  topped  with  flags.     The  King  rides  up,  and  stays 

about  the  middle  of  the  course ;  and  while  waiting,  watches 

Lords  Blandford  and  Jermyn  play  bowls.     As  the  horses 

come  up.  His  Majesty  and  we  gallop  after  them  to  the 

winning  post.     The  colours  are  the  green  taflfeta  of  Sir 

Thos.  Eliot,  and  the  white  of  Mr.  Bernard  ]ioward.     Sir 

Thomas's  horse  wins,  and  is  greeted  at  the  post  with  a 

flourish  of  trumpets   and   drums.     At  half  jifter  five  his 

Majesty  goes  to  his  lodging,  rests  a  little,  and  then  goes 

for  a  short  walk  through  Newmarket,  and  cut  the  other 

side.     In  the  evening  we  all  go  to  a  very  pocr  play ;  then 

to  supper,  then  to  one  of  the  ladies*  lodgings,  then  to  bed. 

For  the  next  few  days  the  King  only  varies  this  by  fox- 

hunting  in  the  morning ;  playing  tennis  in  the  afternoon 

with  Prince  Rupert,  while  we  hunt  dotterel ;  going  to  the 

cock-pit  at  six,  and  the  like :  and  at  length  wo  leave  New- 

market  for  London  again,  stopping  on  our  way  at  Euston, 

my  Lord  Arlington's  house.    But  on  our  returi  to  London 

we  find  serious  matters,  for  once,  must  perforce  occupy  the 

attention  of  our  Master,  for  there  is  a  war  at  home  among 

the  mistresses,  and  rumours  of  another  abroad" 

Such  was  perhaps  a  typical  week  in  the  life  of  a  courtier 
not  holding  any  great  office  of  State.  Certain  c  f  the  greater 
courtiers  require  some  individual  attention.  Next  to  the 
King  himself  in  importance,  though  by  no  means  in  popu- 
larity,  is  James,  Duke  of  York,  Of  greater  gravity  and 
steadmess  than  the  King,  he  has  not  such  understanding 
or  wit:  he  would  see  things  if  he  could,  the  King  could  if 
he  would.  He  is  fond  of  women,  and  while  it  is  improbable 
that  they  ofler  themselves  to  him,  as  they  do  1:o  the  King 
he  can  find,  as  the  heir  to  the  throne,  many  v^herewith  to 


f '    I 


ti 


I 


Ill 


260  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

amuse  himself,  if  he  so  pleases.  Yet  his  choice  and  taste 
are  deplorable,  insomuch  that  his  Majesty  says  that  his 
brother's  mistresses  are  given  him  as  penances  by  the 
priests.  It  is  always  perfectly  easy  to  see  whom  he 
delighteth,  or  desireth  to  honour,  by  his  open  and 
unpleasant  ogling ;  which  sometimes  succeeds,  though 
not  in  the  case  of  little  Jennings,  who  takes  his  notes,  and 
drops  them  openly  before  the  whole  court,  out  of  her  muff, 
and  the  like.  The  Duke  is  even  fonder  of  hawking  than 
the  King,  and  plays  golf  and  tennis  well.  His  zeal  for  the 
navy  is  great,  and  in  St.  James'  Palace  he  has  many  models 
of  ships  in  glass  cases.  He  is  brave  and  honourable, 
careful  of  his  word  to  suitors,  but  not  so  gracious  as  his 
brother.  Under  the  influence  of  religious  zeal,  he  becomes 
the  "  eternal  foe  of  common  sense  "  and  even  a  harsh  and 
cruel  judge.  Between  the  King  and  the  Duke  there  is 
little  love,  especially  when,  through  obstinacy  or  stupidity, 
the  Duke  incommodes  his  Majesty.  Sometimes  in  his 
cups  the  King  expresses  himself  very  indecently  on  the 
subject,  though  one  day  in  a  set  debauch  at  Sir  George 
Carteret's  house  at  Cranbourne,  Sir  Nicholas  Armourer 
says  to  him :  "  By  God,  Sir,  you  are  not  so  kind  to  the 
Duke  of  York  of  late  as  you  used  to  be."  "  Not  I .? "  says  the 
King,  "  why  so  ?  "  "  Why,"  says  he,  "  if  you  are,  let  us  drink 
his  health."  ''  Why,  let  us,"  says  the  King,  and  Armourer 
falls  on  his  knees  and  drinks  it,  and  having  done,  the  King 
rises  to  drink  it,  "  Nay,  Sir,"  says  Armourer, "  by  God,  you 
must  do  it  on  your  knees ! "  So  he  does,  and  then  all 
the  company  ;  and  having  done  it,  all  fall  a-crying  for  joy, 
being  all  maudlin,  and  kissing  one  another,  the  King 
the  Duke  of  York,  and  the  Duke  of  York  the  King,  and 
in  such  a  maudlin  pickle  as  never  people  were :  and 
so  passed  the  day.  But  the  King  hath  this  good  luck, 
that  the  next  day  he  hates  to  have  anybody  mention 
what  he  has  done  the  day  before  nor  will  suffer  anybody 
to  gain  upon  him  that  way ;  which  is  a  good  quality. 
To   conclude,  the   Duke   is   a   firm   friend,  but   a   heavy 


^ 


I 


w 


l.« 


I 


I 


c/: 


a:   u 


X 
U 


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> 

CO 


Ki'i 


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r 


THE  DUKE  OF  GLOUCESTER 


26 1 


enemy ;  he  generally  judges  well  when  tl 
before  him,  except  when  the  violence  of  his  s 
a  bias,  which  it  does  too  often.  He  abhors 
and  he  never  swears  nor  talks  irreligiously 
the  more  worthy  of  remark,  in  that  this  as 
profane  swearing  among  both  sexes,  all  clas 
than  any  before,  as  Mr.  Butler  says  very  pre; 


lings  are  laid 
pint  gives  him 
drunkenness 
;  and  this  is 
re  hath  more 
ses  and  ages, 
:tily : 


"  How  copious  is  our  language  lately  grown, 
To  make  blaspheming,  wit,  and  a  jargon? 
And  yet  how  expressive  and  significant, 
In  Damme  at  once  to  curse,  and  swear,  and  rant .' 
As  if  no  way  express'd  men's  souls  so  well. 
As  damming  of  them  to  the  pit  of  hell  ; 
Nor  any  asseveration  were  so  civil. 
As  mortgaging  salvation  to  the  devil." 

Henry  of  Oatlands,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  was  a  prince  of 
the  greatest  hopes,  undaunted  courage,  admirable  parts 
and  a  clear  understanding ;  he  understood  the  Latin,' 
Prench,  Spanish,  Italian,  and  Low  Dutch ;  he  was  of  a 
temper  different  from  both  his  brothers,  though  fond  of 
women ;  but  he  was  active  and  loved  business,  apt  to  have 
particular  friendships,  had  an  insinuating  temper,  generally 
very  acceptable.  The  King  loved  him  much  better  than 
the  Duke  of  York.     But  the  Duke  was  uneasy  when  he 

eenerl>'%T   "°  ,^^'"  ^'^'  ^""^  ^''^-  ^'"=^  ^onk  was 
general     So  he  spoke  to  the  Earl  of  Clarendon,  that  he 

might  be  made  Lord  Treasurer;  but  he  told  him  it  was  a 
post  below  his  dignity.  He  would  not  be  put  off  with 
tha  for  he  could  not  bear  an  idle  life,  nor  to  see  his 
brother  at  the  head  of  the  fleet,  when  he  had  neither  busi- 
ness nor  dependence.  But  the  mirth  and  entertainments 
of  the  time  raised  his  blood  so  high  that  he  tock  the  small- 
pox of  which  he  died  in  September,  1660,  much  lamented 
by  all,  but  most  by  the  King,  who  was  never  in  his  whole 

Somelr-rK    "'°l^^"'  "^  ^^  "^^  "P°"  '^^'  ^^-asion. 
Some  put  It  about  that  he  died  by  treachery  and  poison 


1 


« 


f 


. 


1,1  .- 


;-i 


^i[ 


■ 


262  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

but  it  was  not  so,  though  rather  by  carelessness  of  his 
physicians. 

The   Duke  of   Buckingham,  though  two  years   older 
than  Charles,   was  brought   up  with  the   royal   children, 
and  seems  to  have  then  conceived,  and  always  kept,  in  his 
own  strange  and  flighty  way,  an  affection  for  the  King, 
though  he  frequently  slandered  and  traduced  him  at  home 
and  abroad.     He  was  one  of  the  most  brilliant,  if  least 
fixed,  stars   of  the  Court.     His  character  was  eminently 
composed  of  contradictions,  m  which  the  bad  preponde- 
rated  ;  his  person  was  graceful,  his  face  handsome,  and  his 
address  and  manners  excellent,  insomuch  that  Sir  John 
Reresby  thought  him  the  finest  gentleman  at  Court,  and 
Louis  XIV  called  him  the  only  English  gentleman  he  had 
ever  seen.     He  knew  how  to  act  all  parts  with  so  much 
grace  and  pleasantry  that  it  was  difficult  to  do  without 
him,  when  he  had  a  mind  to  make  himself  agreeable ;  and 
he  made  himself  so  necessary  to  Miss  Stewart  that  she 
sent  all  over  the  town  for  him,  when  he  did  not  attend  the 
King,  to  her  apartments.     He  had  no  sort  of  literatu  2, 
and,  in  spite  of  this,  and  of  the  fact  that  he  was  one  of  the 
most  "deboshed  fishes"  at  the  Court,  his  play  of   TJie 
Rehearsal,  which  ridicules  the  heroic  plays  of  Dryden  and 
others,  is  free  from  anything  offensive,  and  is  one  of  the 
few  humorous  pieces  of  the  age. 

"A  Duke  of  Bucks  is  one  that  has  studied  the  whole 
body  of  vice.  His  parts  are  disproportionate  to  the  whole, 
and,  like  a  monster,  he  has  more  of  some,  and  less  of 
others,  than  he  should  have.  He  has  pulled  down  all  that 
nature  raised  in  him,  and  built  himself  up  again  after  a 
model  of  his  own.  He  has  dammed  up  all  those  lights 
that  nature  made  into  the  noblest  prospects  of  the  world, 
and  opened  other  little  blind  loopholes,  backward,  by  turn- 
ing day  into  night,  and  night  into  day.  His  appetite  to 
his  pleasures  is  diseased  and  crazy  .  .  .  continual  wine, 
women,  and  music,  put  false  value  upon  things,  which,  by 
custom,  become  habitual,  and  debauch  his  understanding 


I  i 


GEORGE  VILLIERS,   DUKE  OF   BUCKINGHAM 

FROM  THE   PAINTING   BY  SIR   PETER   LELY   IN   THE    NATIONAL    PORTRAIT  GALLERY 


K'l 


. 


(' 


:/ 


I  it 


\y 


\ 


BUCKINGHAM 

so,  that  he  retains  no  right  notion,  no  sense  c 
He  rises,  eats,  and  goes  to  bed  by  the  Julian 
after  all  others  that  go  by  the  new  style,  a 
same  hours  with  owls  and  the  antipodes, 
observer  of  the  Tartar  customs/  and  never 
great  cham,  having  dined,  makes  proclamatic 
world  may  go  to  dinner.  He  does  not  dwel 
but  haunts  it  like  an  evil  spirit,  that  walks  all 
turb  the  family,  and  never  appears  by  day. 
petually  benighted,  runs  out  of  his  life,  and 
as  men  do  their  ways  in  the  dark  ;  and  as  I 
led  by  their  dogs,  so  is  he  governed  by  some 
or  other,  that  relates  to  his  pleasures.  He  is 
as  the  moon  which  he  lives  under,  and  a 
nothing  but  advise  with  his  pillow  all  day,  h« 
stranger  to  himself  as  he  is  to  the  rest  of  th« 
mind  entertains  very  freely  all  things  that  ( 
but,  like  guests  and  strangers,  they  are  not  W( 
stay  long.  .  .  .  Thus,  with  S.  Paul,  tho*  i 
sense,  he  dies  daily,  and  only  lives  in  the  ni 
ears  are  perpetually  drilled  with  a  fiddlesti 
dures  pleasures  with  less  patience  than  other 
pains. 


"  a 


Buckingham  married  in  1658  the  daug 
Fairfax,  and  for  some  time  seems  to  have  ] 
and  domestic  life  with  her.  But  the  Restor; 
much  for  him,  and  he  became  entangled  wi 
worst  women  at  the  Court,  Anna  Maria  Brud( 
of  Shrewsbury.  For  her  he  fought  the  fam( 
her  husband,  fatally  wounding  the  Earl,  whil 
page's  costume,  held  his  horse.  He  also  tool 
home,  and  when  his  patient  wife  declared  tl 

*  Like  Nell  Gwyn,  when  the  Portsmouth  went  into 
alleged  relation,  the  Prince  de  Rohan.     The  Cham  of  Tart 
and  Nelly  put  on  mourning  for  him  ;  and  on  being  asked  wl 
to  her,  replied,  "  Exactly  the  same  relation  that  the  Prince 
Mile.  Keroualle." 
*  BuUer,  Characters, 


263 

>f  things.  .  .  . 
account,  long 
Qd  keeps  the 
Se  is  a  great 

eats  till  the 
n  that  all  the 
[  in  his  house, 

night,  to  dis- 
He  lives  per- 
loses  his  time 
•lind  men  are 
mean  servant 
as  inconstant 
tho*  he  does 
I  is  as  great  a 
;  world.  His 
:ome  and  go, 
ilcome  if  they 
tl  a  different 
ght.  .  .  .  His 
ck.  He  en- 
men  do  their 

hter  of  Lord 
ived  a  happy 
ition  was  too 
th  one  of  the 
inel,  Countess 
)us  duel  with 
e  the  lady,  in 
:  his  mistress 
lat  one  house 

mourning  for  her 
try  had  also  died , 
at  relation  he  was 
de  Rohan  was  to 


I    i 


Ill  M 


I 


264  CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 

should  not  hold  wife  and  mistress,  Buckingham  made  the 
"devilish  answer/'  "Why,  Madam,  I  did  think  so,  and 
therefore  have  ordered  your  coach  to  be  ready  to  carry  you 
to  your  father's."  Of  Buckingham's  wit  some  specimens 
besides  this  are  preserved,^  and  most  of  them  satirical 
ebullitions  of  his  flighty  fancy,  which  rendered  him  un- 
accountable and  untrustworthy  to  such  a  degree,  that  when 
Charles  had  repeatedly  ordered  him  back  from  France  in 
1670,  the  Duke  delayed  so  long  that  his  master  answered 
an  inquiry  as  to  when  he  expected  to  see  the  Duke,  "in 
the  Valley  of  Jehoshaphat  at  the  Day  of  Judgment." 

The  Duke  of  Lauderdale,  for  most  of  the  reign  virtual 
viceroy  of  Scotland,  was  a  great  contrast  to  Buckingham 
in  everything  save  morals  ;  "  he  made  a  very  ill-appear- 
ance ;  he  was  very  big,  his  hair  was  red,  hanging  oddly 
about  him  ;  his  tongue  was  too  big  for  his  mouth,  which 
made  him  bedew  all  he  talked  to ;  and  his  whole  manner 
was  rough  and  boisterous,  and  very  unfit  for  a  Court.  He 
was  very  learned,  not  only  in  Latin,  in  which  he  was  a 
master,  but  also  in  Greek  and  Hebrew.  ...  He  was 
haughty  beyond  expression.  ...  He  was  the  coldest 
friend  and  violentest  enemy"  ...  he  had  a  broad  and 
brutal  wit  which  recommended  him  to  the  King,  into 
whose  snuff-box  he  would  always  be  dipping  his  fingers. 
He  would  sometimes  bore  the  King  by  thrusting  into  his 
company  at  all  times,  and  on  one  occasion,  at  a  supper,  a 
double  sillabub-glass  was  prepared,  the  one-half  of  a  goodly 
liquor,  the  other  of  filth  unspeakable  ;  the  King  drank  half 
and  passed  the  glass  to  the  tipsy  Lauderdale,  who  drank 
the  other  half  with  vast  approval,  but  was  soon  removed 
extremely  ill.  This  checked  his  constant  visits  to  the 
King  for  some  time. 

The  Earl  of  Rochester  and  Sir  Charles  Sedley,  both 
alumm  of  a  Puritan  Oxford  College,  were  lovely  and 
pleasant  in  their  lives,  and  not  divided  therein,  though 
Sedley  survived  the  Earl  many  years.     They  were  both 

1  Cf.  p.  218. 


ROCHESTER  AND   SEDLEY 


265 


"  noble  authors "  and  both  rakes,  like  Buckingham,  Dorset, 
and  Etheredge.  Rochester  was  the  soi  of  the  Lord 
Wilmot  who  fled  from  Worcester  with  the  King.  He 
came  to  Court  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  and  was  quickly 
corrupted,  the  more  easily  from  the  quickress  of  his  parts 
and  adaptability  of  his  temper.  The  Kin  or  allowed  more 
latitude,  perhaps,  to  him,  than  to  any  other  courtier,  in 
shameless  actions,  and  impudent  words.  He  was  the 
author  of  the  famous  lines  : 

"  Here  lies  our  sovereign  lord  the  King, 
Whose  word  no  man  relies  on  ; 
Who  never  said  a  foolish  thing, 
And  never  did  a  wise  one." 

to  which  Charles  replied  :  "  That  is  easily  explained  ;  my 
words  are  my  own,  but  my  actions  are  my  ministers* ! " 
Rochester  wrote  such  scurrilous  libels  on  the  King  ("a 
merry  monarch,  scandalous  and  poor,"  is  the  mildest  thing 
he  says),  that  he  was  often  banished  the  Court ;  during 
one  of  these  exiles  he  set  up  as  an  astrologer  in  Tower 
Street,  and  was  resorted  to  by  all  the  Court  ladies  and 
ladies'-maids,  whom  he  astonished  by  the  accuracy  of  his 
diagnoses  and   prophecies:  on   another   occasion   he  and 
Buckingham  kept  the  "  Green  Mare  "  inn  near  Newmarket, 
and  while  there  debauched  the  wife  of  a  countryman,  thus 
causing  her  husband  to  hang  himself,  and  then  coolly  dis- 
missed the  woman  to  London,  to  make  her  fortune  there. 
This  freak,  or,  rather,  the  racy  relation  of  it,  restored  him 
to  favour  at  Court.     The  following  conversation  between 
him  and  the  King  well  illustrates  their  re  lations :  "  Last 
night  I  supt  at  Lord  Rochester's,  with  a  sc  lect  company ; 
on  such  occasions  he  is  not  ambitious  of  shining ;  he  is 
rather  pleasant  than  arch ;  he  is  comparatively  reserved, 
but  you  find  something  in  that  restraint  thai;  is  more  agree- 
able than  the  utmost   exertion  of  talent  in   others. 
The  most  perfect  good  humour  was  supported  through  the 
whole  evening,  nor  was  it  in  the  least  disturbed  when, 


!l 


< 


266  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

unexpectedly,  towards  the  end  of  it,  the  King  came  in  : 
'  Something  has  vext  him,*  said  Rochester ;  *  he  never  does 
me  this  honour  but  when  he  is  in  an  ill  humour.'  *  How 
the  devil  have  I  got  here  ?  The  knaves  have  sold  every 
cloak  in  the  wardrobe/  '  Those  knaves  are  fools.  That 
is  a  part  of  dress,  which,  for  their  own  sakes,  your  Majesty 
ought  never  to  be  without/  *  Pshaw !  I'm  vext/  *  I  hate 
still  life— I  am  glad  of  it.    Your  Majesty  is  never  so  enter- 

taining  as  when *     Ridiculous!  I  believe  the  English 

are  the  most  intractable  people  upon  earth.'  *I  must 
humbly  beg  your  Majest/s  pardon,  if  I  presume  in  that 
respect'  *  You  would  find  them  so,  were  you  in  my  place, 
and  obliged  to  govern.'  *  Were  I  in  your  Majesty's  place,' 
I  would  not  govern  at  all.'  *  How  then?'  *I  would 
send  for  my  good  Lord  Rochester,  and  command  him  to 
govern.'  *  But  the  singular  modesty  of  that  nobleman  ? ' 
*  He  would  certainly  conform  himself  to  your  Majesty's 
bright  example.  How  gloriously  would  the  two  grand 
social  virtues  flourish  under  his  auspices ! '  *  O  prisca 
fides!  what  can  these  be?'  *The  love  of  wine  and 
women,  God  bless  your  Majesty,  these  attachments 
keep  the  world  in  good  humour,  and  therefore  I  say  they 
are  social  virtues.  Let  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury  deny  it  if 
he  can.'  *  He  died  last  night.  Have  you  a  mind  to 
succeed  him  ? '  *  On  condition  that  I  shall  neither  be 
called  upon  to  preach  on  30  January  or  29  May.'  *  Those 
conditions  are  curious.  You  object  to  the  first,  I  sup- 
pose, because  it  would  be  a  melancholy  subject ;  but  the 

other '     *  Would  be  a  mel  ancholy  subject  too.'    *  That 

is  too  much.'  '  Nay,  I  only  mean  that  the  business  would 
be  a  little  too  grave  for  the  day.  Nothing  but  the  in- 
dulgence of  the  grand  social  virtues  could  be  a  testimony 
for  my  joy  upon  that  occasion.'  *Thou  art  the  happiest 
fellow  in  my  dominions.  Let  me  perish  if  I  do  not  envy 
thee  thy  impudence.' " 

Rochester  was  of  a  handsome  but  peevish,  weary-look- 
ing face,  and  graceful  person ;  somewhat   careful  of  his 


LETTERS  OF   ROCHESTE:R 


267 


dress.     One  of  his  most  serious  disgraces 
caused  by  his  abduction  of  the  heiress  El 
who,  however,  afterwards  married  him.     He 
perfectly  with  his  wife,  and  his  letters  to  h 
thing  of  his  feelings  towards  her  and  the 
'*  Run  away  like  a  rascal  without  taking  le, 
it  is  an  impolite  way  of  proceeding  which 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of.     I  have  left  you  ; 
own  imaginations   amongst  my  relations,- 
damnations ;  but  there  will  come  an  hour 
till  when,  may  my  mother  be  merciful  to  y 
mit  you  to  what  shall  ensue,  woman  to  v 
mother,  in  hopes  of  a  future  appearance 
"  You  must,  I  think,  obey  my  mother  in  hei 
wait  on  her  at  Aylesbury,  as  I  told  you  in  n 
I  will  only  desire  you  not  to  be  too  much 
thoughts  my  mother  has  of  you,  since  being 
tions,  they  will  as  easily  vanish,  as  they  wer 
erected ;  for  my  own  part,  I  will  make  it 
they  may."  ..."  My  Wife,  .  .  .  The  diffici 
ing  your  ladyship  do  increase  so  fast  upo 
grown   so  numerous,  that  to  a  man   less 
myself  never  to  give  it  over,  it  would  app 
ever  to  attempt  it  more ;  but  through  your 
ought  not  to  multiply  ;  you  may,  therefore, 
that  it  will  not  be  easy  for  you  to  put  me  < 
stant  resolutions  to  satisfy  you  in  all  I  c 
there  is  nothing  will  so  much  contribute  to 
in  this  as  your  dealing  freely  with  me  ;  for  s 
thought  it  a  wise  thing  to  trust  me  less  and 
it  has  been  out  of  my  power  to  make  the  b 
ceedings  effectual  to  what  I  intended  them. 
I  am  likeliest  to  learn  your  mind,  for  you  h 
obliging  way  of  delivering  it  by  word  of  m< 
fore,  you  will  let  me  know  the  particulars  i 
be  useful  to  you,  I  will  show  my  readiness 
part ;  and  if  I  fail  of  the  success  I  wish,  it  s 


at  Court  was 
zabeth  Malet, 
did  not  agree 
er  show  some- 
country  life : 
ive,  dear  wife, 
a  modest  man 
I  prey  to  your 
-the  worst  of 
of  deliverance, 
Du  ;  so  I  com- 
oman,  wife  to 
in  glory."  .  .  . 
commands  to 
\y  last  letter — 
imazed  at  the 
mere  imagina- 
e  groundlessly 
my  endeavour 
ilties  of  pleas- 
n  me,  and  are 
resolved   than 
ear  a  madness 
frailties  mine 
secure  yourself 
)ut  of  my  con- 
an.     I  confess 
my  assistance 
ince  you  have 
have  reserves, 
2st  of  my  pro- 
At  a  distance 
ave  not  a  very 
)uth ;  if,  there- 
n  which  I  may 
as  to  my  own 
aall  not  be  the 


II 

I 


I 


li 


I 


v\ 


268  CHARLES  II   AND   HIS   COURT 

fault  of  your  humble  servant  Rochester."    To  his  little 
son  he  writes  :  "Avoid  idleness,  scorn  lying,  and  God  will 
bless  you.   .   .    .   Dear  child,   learn  your  book,  and  be 
obedient,  and  you  shall  see  what  a  father  I  will  be  to  you  " 
Lady  Rochester  seems  to  have  preferred  the  country  to 
the  town,  and,  Rochester  himself  only  used  the  country 
as  a  retirement   in  exile,  wherein   to  write  satires  and 
libels.     "  Lady  Rochester  kept  my  brother's  birthday  with 
great  solemnity,  causing  the  bells  to  be  rung,  and  making 
a  great  dinner.     We  concluded  it  by  dancing  i6  dances 
after  supper,  and  because  the  weather  was  hot,  we  danced 
some  of  them  in  the  fore-court,  some  in  the  garden,  and 
the   rest   in   the    hall."      For  a   mercurial  courtier    like 
Rochester,  country  life  appeared  terribly  dull ;  a  round  of 
hawking,  hunting,  and  formal  visits,  and  entertainments 
of  neighbouring  squires,  and  occasional  tenants'  dinners 
Rochester  is  said  to  have  distinguished   himself  in   the 
second  Dutch  war,  but  afterwards  lost  his  reputation  for 
courage  through  an   obscure  affair  with  John  Sheffield 
Earl  of  Mulgrave.      Gilbert    Burnet   wrote    Rochester's' 
biography,  and  says  of  him  in  that  and  in  the  "  History  "  • 
"  His  wit  had  a  peculiar  brightness ;  he  seemed  to  affect 
something  singular  and   paradoxical  in    his  impieties,  as 
well  as  in  his  writings,  above  the  reach  and  thought  of 
other  men.  ...  He  was  for  some  years  always  drunk,  and 
was  ever  doing  some  mischief     The  King  loved  his  com- 
pany for  the  diversion  it  afforded,  better  than  his  person 
and  there  was  no  love  lost  between  them.  .  .  .  Sedley  had 
a  more  sudden  and  copious  wit,  which  furnished  a  per- 
petual run  of  discourse,  but  it  was  not  so  correct  as  Lord 
Dorset's,  nor  so  sparkling  as  Lord  Rochester's."     Rochester 
died  in  1680,  and  two  of  his  last  letters  show  an  admirable 
contrast  between  the  styles  of  a  man  writing  to  a  friend, 
and  to  his  priest  when  at  the  point  of  death.     « It  is  a 
miraculous  thing  (as  the  wise  have  it),  when  a  man  half 
in  the  grave,  cannot  leave  off  playing  the  fool  and  the 
buffoon ;  but  so  it  falls  out  in  my  comfort      For   this 


■ 


I 


"THE  DEVIL  WAS   SICK' 


269 


III 


\ 


JOHN   WII.MOT,    F.ARL  OF    ROCHES1  ER 

FROM    TIE    J'AINTING    BY    WILLIAM    WESSLVCi    L\    THK    NAriONAL    l'..KrK-AlI     (.AI.I.KKV 


I 

t 


moment  I  am  in  a  damned  relapse,  brought  by  a  fever 
the  stone,  and  some  other  ten  diseases  more,  which  have 
deprived  me  of  the  power  of  crawling,  which  I  happily 
enjoyed  some  days  ago  ;  and  now  I  fear  I  nust  fall,  that 
it  may  be  fulfilled  which  was  long  since  written  in  the 
good  old  ballad — 

*  But  he  who  lives  not  wise  and  sober , 
Falls  with  the  leaf  still  in  October.' 

x\bout  which  time,  in  all  probability,  the]-e  may  be  a 
period  added  to  the  ridiculous  being  of  your  humble 
servant,  Rochester."  "  Woodstock  Park,  Oxfordshire.  My 
most  honoured  Dr.  Burnet,  My  spirits  and  body  decay  so 
equally  together,  that  I  shall  write  you  a  hotter,  as  weak 
as  I  am  in  person.  I  begin  to  value  Churchnen  above  all 
men  in  the  world,  &c.  If  God  be  yet  pleased  to  spare  me 
longer  in  this  world,  I  hope  in  your  conversation  to  be 
exalted  to  that  degree  of  piety  that  the  world  may  see 
how  much  I  abhor  what  I  so  long  loved,  and  how  much 
I  glory  in  repentance  and  in  God's  service.  Bestow  your 
prayers  upon  me,  that  God  would  spare  mc,  if  it  be  His 
good  will,  to  shew  a  true  repentance  and  amendment  of 
life  for  the  time  to  come  ;  or  else,  if  the  Lord  pleaseth  to 
put  an  end  to  my  worldly  being  now,  that  He  would  merci- 
fully accept  of  my  death-bed  repentance,  and  perform  that 
promise  that  He  hath  been  pleased  to  make,  that,  at  what 
time  soever  a  sinner  doth  repent.  He  would  receive  him. 
Put  up  these  prayers,  most  dear  Doctor,  to  Almighty  God, 
for  your  Most  obedient  and  languishing  servait,  Rochester 
25  June,  1680." 

Sedley  wrote  several  plays,  of  which  the  "  Mulberry 
Garden  "  is  the  best ;  but  his  songs,  set  to  exquisite  music 
by  Purcell,  are  better  known :  "  Phillis  is  riy  only  Joy 
Faithless  as  the  Wind  and  Seas"  ;  "Phillis,  without  Frown 
or  Smile,  Sat  and  knotted  all  the  while  " ;  "  ]:.ove  still  has 
something  of  the  Sea  From  whence  his  Mother  rose"- 
and  finally :  ' 


I 


liii 


270  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS    COURT 

"  Not,  Celia,  that  I  juster  am, 
Or  better  than  the  rest, 
For  I  would  change  each  hour  like  them, 
Were  not  my  heart  at  rest. 
But  I  am  tied  to  \'ery  thee 
By  every  Thought  I  have, 
Thy  Face  I  only  care  to  see, 
Thy  Heart  I  only  crave. 
All  that  in  woman  is  ador'd 
In  thy  dear  Self  I  find, 
For  the  whole  Sex  can  but  afford 
The  handsome  and  the  kind. 
Why  then  should  I  seek  farther  Store, 
And  still  make  Love  anew  ? 
When  Change  itself  can  give  no  more, 
'Tis  easy  to  be  true." 

One  or  two  of  his  witty  remarks  have  come  down  to  us : 
when  his  play  "  Bellamira ;  or  the  Mistress  "  was  being 
acted,  the  theatre  roof  fell  in,  injuring  Sedley  and  others ; 
Sir  Fleetwood  Shepherd  said  the  play  was  so  full  of  fire 
that  it  blew  up  the  poet,  theatre,  and  audience.  "No," 
replied  Sedley,  "  it  was  so  heavy  that  it  brought  down  the 
house  and  buried  the  poet  in  his  own  rubbish."  When 
Sedley  had  voted  for  William  of  Orange,  he  said,  "  James 
made  my  daughter  a  Countess,  and  I  have  made  his 
daughter  a^Queen."     Rochester  said  of  his  verses  : 

"  Sedley  has  that  prevailing,  gentle  art, 
That  can  with  a  resistless  charm  impart 
The  basest  wishes  to  the  chastest  heart." 

Rochester's  best-known  pieces  are  perhaps  his  "Allusion 
to  Horace"  and  "  On  Nothing*' ;  but  though  the  majority 
of  his  poems  are  either  silly  or  bestial,  some  verses  of  great 
beauty  deserve  reprinting : 

"  Absent  from  thee  1  languish  still, 
Then  ask  me  not,  Avhen  I  return  ? 
The  straying  Fool  'twill  plainly  kill 
To  wish  all  Day,  all  Night  to  mourn. 


PRINCE   RUPERT  271 

"  Dear,  from  thine  Arms  then  let  me  fly, 
That  my  fantastic  Mind  may  prove 
The  Torments  it  deserves  to  try, 
That  tears  my  fixed  Heart  from  my  Lo\e. 

"  When  wearied  with  a  World  of  Woe, 
To  thy  safe  Bosom  I  retire, 
Where  Love,  and  Peace,  and  Honour  Adw, 
May  I,  contented,  there  expire. 

"  Lest  once  more  wandering  from  that  Heaven, 
I  fall  on  some  base  Heart  unblest, 
Faithless  to  thee,  false,  unforgiven, 
And  lose  my  everlasting  Rest." 

Lord  Buckhurst,  afterwards  Earl  of  Doiset,  is  remem- 
bered as  the  first  keeper  of  Nell  Gwyn,  for  a  brief  July  in 
1667  at  Epsom,  as  the  dedicatee  of  Drydeii's  "  Essay  on 
Dramatic  Poesy  "  (wherein  he  figures  as  Eu:?enius),  as  the 
companion  of  Sedley  in  one  or  two  drunken  extravagances 
at  the  "  Cock  "  in  Bow  Street,  and  as  author  of  the  song 
from  the  fleet  in  1665—"  To  all  you  ladies  qow  on  land." 
He  was  reputed  the  best-bred  man  in  England,  and 
Rochester  calls  him  "the  best-natured  man  with  the  worst- 
natured  muse,"  in  allusion  to  his  real  kindness  and  affa- 
bility, and  his  stinging  tongue  and  pen,  when  occasion  for 
satire  appeared.  Among  the  "mob  of  gentlemen  who 
wrote  with  ease,"  were  Sir  George  Etheredge,  Lord  Orrery, 
Sir  Robert  Howard,  the  Earl  of  Roscommon,  and  a  host  of 
others. 

But  it  is  time  to  turn  to  the  few  statesmen  or  respect- 
able persons  among  the  men  whom  we  havi  not  hitherto 
considered.  Clarendon,  Ormond,  Arlington,  and  New- 
castle we  know ;  but  Prince  Rupert  is  at  Cou  rt,  and  claims 
our  notice.  He  employs  his  time  in  naval  matters,  in 
tennis,  and  mezzotint  engraving;  on  one  occasion  he 
heads  a  deputation  of  petitioners ;  and  has,  t  is  said,  lost 
rauch  of  the  King's  love,  which  was  all  his,  during  the 
Civil  War.  He  seems  woefully  out  of  place  in  the  circle 
of  water-flies  at  Court,  and  most  of  the  courtiers  fear  and 


[\i 


272 


CHARLES   II  AND   HIS  COURT 


dislike  him.   "  He  was  brave  and  courageous,  even  to  rash- 
ness,  but   cross-grained    and   incorrigibly   obstinate:    his 
genius  was  fertile  in  mathematical  experiments,  and  he 
possessed  some  knowledge  of  Chemistry;  he  was  polite, 
even   to   excess,   unreasonably ;    but  haughty,  and   even 
brutal,  when  he  ought  to  have  been  gentle  and  courteous ; 
he  was  tall  and  his  manners  were  ungracious  :   he  had  a 
dry,  hard-favoured  visage,  and  a  stern  look,  even  when  he 
wisht  to  please ;    but,  when  he  was  out  of  humour,  his 
countenance  was  forbidding.  .  .  .  He  loved   not  debate ; 
liked  what  was  proposed  as  he  liked  the  persons  who  pro- 
posed it.  .  .  .  He  died  in  1682  and  the  Court  went  to  see 
a  play  on  the  night  of  his  burial."    The  Duke  of  Newcastle 
retired  from  Court  life  after  the  Restoration,  and  devoted 
himself  to  encouraging  horse-racing   in  his  own  district, 
and  writing  plays  ;  while  his  wife  wrote  in  her  curious  but 
often  charming  style,  about  her  adored  husband,  about 
literary   criticism,    philosophy,   mechanics,    religion,    and 
everything  else,  being  a  very  female  Sir  Positive  At-All. 
She  caused  her  maids  to  arise  at  any  hour  of  the  night  to 
transcribe  her  thoughts,  and  was  no  less  fantastic  in  her 
dress  than  in  her  style.     "  The  whole  story  of  this  lady  is 
a  romance,  and  all  she  does  is   romantic ;   her  coach  is 
always  followed  by  children  and  citizens  of  all  ages,  even 
by  the  courtiers,  who  desire  to  look  upon  this  lady  in  her 
antique  dress  ;  with  velvet  cap,  her  hair  about  her  ears, 
many  black  patches  because  of  pimples  about  her  mouth  ; 
naked-necked,   without  anything   about   it,  and   a   black 
just-aU'Corps ;  dark,  with  good  little  eyes  ;  sings  well,  and 
hath  been   a  good  comely  woman ;  her   footmen   all  in 
velvet,  her  coach  black  and  silver,  with  white  curtains." 

The  two  Duchesses  of  York  were  vastly  different  both 
in  character  and  popularity.  Anne  Hyde  was  a  clever, 
wasteful,  but  good-natured  woman,  addicted  to  the  pleasures 
of  the  table,  and,  according  to  well  -  supported  Court 
scandal,  not  averse  to  one  or  two  of  the  Court  gallants. 
She  began  to  write  her  husband's  memoirs,  and  always 


MARY  OF  MODENA  273 

ruled  him,  save  in  the  matter  of  religion,  wherein  she  was 
converted  to  Catholicism.  Maria  of  Modena,  'the  princess 
with  the  golden  locks,"  came  over  young  anc!  fresh  from  a 
convent,  but  won  all  hearts,  however  prejudiced  against 
her  by  reason  of  her  religion,  by  her  sv^eetness  and 
courtesy ;  while  her  predecessor  had  alienated  many  by 
her  extreme  haughtiness.  "  The  Duchess  is  m  ach  delighted 
with  making  and  throwing  of  snowballs,  and  pelted  the 
Duke  soundly  with  one  the  other  day  and  ran  away  quick 
into  her  closet  and  he  after  her,  but  she  durst  not  open  the 
doors.  She  hath  also  great  pleasure  in  one  of  those  sledges 
which  they  call  Trainias,  and  is  pulled  up  and  down  the 
ponds  in  them  every  day,  as  also  the  Kirg,  which  are 
counted  dangerous  things,  and  none  can  drive  the  horse 
which  draws  them  about,  but  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  Mr. 
Griffin,  and  Mr.  Godolphin,  and  a  fourth  whose  name  I 
have  forgott."  Lady  Vaughan  says  of  Maria  d'Este  that 
"  she  had  more  wit  and  as  much  beauty  as  ever  woman 
had  before."  "  She  was  very  thin,  with  a  lon:^  face,  bright 
^y^s,  large  white  teeth,  and  a  pale  complexion'  which 
shewed  all  the  more  because  she  never  used  rouge.  She 
had  an  agreeable  presence,  and  was  very  clean.  .  .  .  She 
was  good  to  the  poor,  and  never  spoke  unkindly  to  any 
one.^  She  had  great  fineness  of  character,  and  truly  royal 
qualities,  much  generosity,  courtesy,  and  judgement.  Her 
only  failing  was  her  extreme  piety."  She  knew  Latin  and 
French  well,  and  learnt  English  very  quickly. 

Barbara,  daughter  of  Viscount  Grandison,  was  born  in 
1640  and  died  in  1709,  and  her  long  life  waij  sufficiently 
varied  in  its  experiences.  In  1666  Harry  Killegrew  was 
banished  for  saying  that  she  had  been  "  a  litl:le  lecherous 
girl,"  a  very  plausible  statement.  From  1655  she  carried 
on  a  hot  amour  with  Philip  Stanhope,  second  Earl  of 
Chesterfield,  and  many  of  their  love-letten  survive,  of 
which  it  is  enough  to  quote  the  following  example :  "My 
Lord,  the  joy  I  had  of  being  with  you  the  last  night, 
has  made  me  doe  nothing  but  dream  of  you ;  yet  the 

T 


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274 


CHARLES  II  AND  HIS  COURT 


discourses  of  the  world  must  make  me  a  little  more  circum- 
spect ;  therefore  I  desire  you  not  to  come  to-night,  but  to 
stay  till  the  party  be  come  to  town.  I  will  not  faile  to 
meete  you  on  Sathurday  morning  till  when  I  remaine  your 
humble  servant"  The  intrigue  was  conducted  by  Mistress 
Barbara  with  perfect  ease  and  abandon,  and  was  continued 
after  her  marriage  to  Roger  Palmer  in  1659,  in  spite  of 
what  she  calls  "  the  mounser's  ill  humour."  In  this  year, 
Palmer  and  his  wife  joined  the  Court  in  Holland,  and  the 
King  at  once  fell  to  the  lady's  charms.  A  month  after 
the  Restoration  Pepys  mentions  the  King  and  Duke  being 
in  a  house  in  King  Street,  Westminster,  with  "  Madame 
Palmer,  a  pretty  woman  that  they  have  a  fancy  to,  to 
make  her  husband  a  cuckold.'*  Pepys  later  came  under 
Mrs.  Palmer's  charm  himself,  and  showed  strong  symptoms 
of  erotic  fetichism.  "  In  the  Privy  Garden  saw  the  finest 
smocks  and  linnen  petticoats  of  my  Lady  Castlemaine's 
laced  with  rich  lace  at  the  bottom,  that  ever  I  saw ;  and 
did  me  good  to  look  upon  them."  Petticoats  and  smocks 
played  great  parts  at  court  then,  and  later  we  find  Nell 
Gwyn  carefully  showing  the  French  Ambassador  and 
several  others,  all  the  petticoats  she  was  then  wearing; 
and  it  is  said  that  by  contriving  to  steal  and  wear  a  fine 
laced  smock  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  she  stole  the 
King  from  that  lady  also,  for  the  night.  Always  before 
the  Queen's  arrival,  and  frequently  afterwards,  the  King 
dined  and  supped  with  Barbara;  and  the  day  of  the 
Queen's  arrival,  when  bonfires  burnt  at  every  door,  there 
was  none  at  hers,  where  the  King  was.  She  was  never 
popular  with  the  people,  and  in  the  absence  of  the  King, 
was  slighted  at  the  Play  ;  once  she  was  met  by  three 
masked  gentlemen,  who  told  her  Jane  Shore  rotted  on  a 
dunghill,  and  sent  her  home  in  a  fainting  condition; 
Charles'  angry  endeavours  to  secure  the  men  were  vain. 
Till  about  the  middle  of  1663,  Lady  Castlemaine  kept 
undisputed  sway  over  Charles,  even  receiving  the  Christmas 
presents  made  by  the  Peers  to  the  King.     But  in   1663 


LADY   CASTLEMAINE 


275 


Charles   fell  in  love  with  Frances   Stewart,  and  refused 
to  visit  the  Castlemaine  unless  "la  belle  Stuard"  were 
with  her ;  and  Barbara  had  herself  to  thar  k,  in  part,  for 
this,  as  she  had  frequently  allowed  the  King  to  see  her 
and  Frances  abed  together  in  the  mornings.    Nevertheless, 
Charles  still  supped  with  her,  and  so  forth,  and  not  till  1666 
did  he  bid  her  leave  Court,  the  immediate  cause  being  that 
the  King  heard  his  wife  say  to  the  Countess,  "she  was 
afraid  the  King  caught  cold  by  staying  abroad  so  late  at 
her  house,"  to  which  the  mistress  replied  thc.t  his  Majesty 
did  not  stay  late  with  her,  "  but  must  stay  soriewhere  else." 
When  she  sent  to  ask  if  she  might  remove  her  goods, 
the  King  bade  her  come  and  inspect  them,  and  a  recon- 
ciliation was  effected,  and  he  paid  her  debts  up  to  ;f  30,000. 
In  return  for  the  King's  infatuation  for  France  is  Stewart  and 
others.  Lady  Castlemaine  accepted  the  love  of  Sir  Charles 
Berkeley,  Colonel  James  Hamilton,  Lord  Sandwich,  Harry 
Jermyn,  Jack  Churchill,  Wycherley  the  dramatist,  Charles 
Hart  the  actor,  and  Jacob  Hill  the  rope-dancer,  to  say 
nothing  of  her  footmen.     In  1670  she  was  created  Baroness 
Nonsuch,  Countess  of  Southampton,  and  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land ;  in  1674,  she  resigned  her  position  as  Lady  of  the 
Bedchamber,  in  compliance  with  the  Test  Act  ;  for  she  had 
become  a  Catholic  in  1663,  as  Nell  Gwyn  did   in  1686. 
The  Comte  d'Estrades,  writing  to  Louis  XIV  in  1663,  tells 
of  Barbara's  conversion.     "  Le  mariage  du  Chevalier  de 
Gramont  et  la  conversion  de  Mme.  de  Castleraaine  se  sont 
publiez  le  m^me  jour ;  et  le  Roy  d'Angleterre  estant  tant 
pri^  par  les  parents  de  la  Dame  d'apporter  quelque  obstacle 
k  cette  action,  r6pondit  galamment  que,  pour  I'ame  des 
Dames,  il  ne  s'en  meloit  point."     Shortly  after  1674,  she 
went  to  Paris,  where  Ralph  Montagu  and  th.;  Marquis  de 
Chastillon  became  rivals  for  her  favours.     Jlowever  she 
soon  returned  and  continued  to  have  money  lavished  on 
her.    In  1705,  on  her  husband's  death,  she  married  Beau 
Fielding;  and  Goodman  the  actor  was  one  cf  the  last  of 
her  lovers.    She  died  at  Walpole  House,  the  M  ill,  Chiswick, 


I)  if    I 


I 


II 


;jii 


276 


CHARLES  II   AND   HIS   COURT 


in  1709.  From  first  to  last  she  showed  all  the  traits  of  a 
bom  courtesan,  for  besides  her  amours,  she  was  at  once 
rapacious  and  profuse,  loved  splendid  entertainments,  and 
had  a  passion  for  gaming,  where  she  sometimes  staked 
/"1 500  at  a  throw,  and  once  lost  ;^25,ooo  in  a  night.  She 
had  few  brains  and  no  self-control,  but  splendid  physical 
beauty  and  vigour :  her  furious  and  reckless  temper  was  one 
of  the  chief  sources  of  her  ascendency  over  the  peace-loving 
King.  She  never  troubled  to  conceal  her  jealousy  of  rivals, 
and  once  threatened  the  King  that  she  would  take  their 
youngest  child  and  dash  out  its  brains  before  him,  if  he  did 
not  kneel  and  beg  her  pardon.  Charles,  however,  never 
suffered  Barbara  to  influence  him  in  serious  politics,  unless 
his  own  previous  inclination  had  tended  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, as  in  the  disgrace  of  Clarendon. 

Her  eldest  child,  Anne  FitzRoy,  Countess  of  Sussex, 
was  acknowledged  by  the  King  and  by  Palmer,  and  was 
thought  to  be  most  like  Chesterfield.     In  after  years  this 
young  lady  had  lodgings  at  Whitehall,  above  the  King's 
rooms,  being   a  favourite  of  her  father's  ;  and   at  Court 
she  played  many  pranks  with   her  friend   the  Duchesse 
Mazarin.      On  one  occasion  the  ladies,  who  had   learnt 
fencing,   appeared   in   the   Park  in  the  evening   in   their 
dressing-gowns,  and  gave  a  fencing  display  to  admiring 
gallants.     Her  husband  objected  to  her  friendship  with  the 
Mazarin,  and  they  separated  ;  the  Countess  going  to  the 
MonasteryofConflans,  where  her  behaviour,  sanctioned,  how- 
ever, by  Charles,  disturbed  her  mother  so  much  as  to  cause 
her  to  write  several  letters  on  the  subject.     Charles  had 
ceased  to  care  for  the  mother,  saying,  "  Madam,  all  I  ask  of 
you  for  your  own  sake  is,  live  so  for  the  future  as  to  make  the 
least  noise  you  can,  and  I  care  not  who  you  love  ; "  but  he 
was  very  glad  to  get  the  daughter  back  to  England  as  soon  as 
possible.    The  Countess  of  Lichfield,  her  younger  daughter, 
was  frequently  visited  by  her  father  at  Ditchley  Park,  and 
had  a  special  cU-mchair  made  for  him  there.     The  follow- 
ing is  a  letter  from  Charles  to  her :  "  Whitehall,  2  October. 


THE  DUCHESS  MAZARIN 


277 


I  have  had  so  much  business  since  I  came  hither  that  I 
hope  you  will  not  thinke  that  I  have  neglected  writing  to 
you  out  of  want  of  kindness  to  my  deare  Charlotte.  I  am 
going  to  Newmarket  to-morrow,  and  have  a  great  deal  of 
businesse  to  dispatch  to-night.  Therefore  I  will  only  tell 
you  now  that  I  have  500  guniyes  for  you  w''^  shall  be  ether 
delivered  to  yourself,  or  any  who  you  shall  appointe  to 
receave  it,  and  so,  my  dear  Charlotte,  be  assured  that  I  love 
you  with  all  my  harte,  being  your  kinde  father,  C.  R." 

We  have  said  that  the  Duchess  Mazarin  was  the  chief 
friend  of  Charles'  daughter.  She  was  also  foi*  a  short  time 
the  reigning  favourite  of  Charles  himself.  The  niece  of 
Cardinal  Mazarin,  and  asked  in  marriage  of  her  uncle 
by  the  King  of  England  in  1659,  she  eventually  married  a 
French  nobleman  wholly  unsuited  to  her,  and  after  many 
wild  escapades  came  to  England  in  167.;,  landed  at 
Torbay,  and  rode  to  London  in  man's  attin?.  Here  St.- 
Evremond  managed  her  affairs,  while  she  lived  at  St. 
James',  with  her  friend  and  relative,  Mary  of  Modena. 
She  was  always  a  reckless  gambler,  both  at  the  card-table 
and  in  the  world,  but  she  contrived  to  keep  uf  appearances 
and  a  basset-table,  almost  to  her  death  in  1699,  when  her 
body  was  seized  by  her  creditors.  In  1676  :jhe  began  to 
attract  the  King's  especial  regard,  and  Couitin  writes  in 
July  to  Pomponne  that  Charles  is  always  meeting  her 
in  the  Countess  of  Sussex's  rooms  in  Whitehall.  In 
July  also,  Nell  Gwyn  went  into  mourning  for  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth's  dead  hopes.  The  three  letters, 
two  of  Courtin,  the  third  of  Barillon,  which  cHefly  concern 
Mme.  Mazarin,  are  these:  "27  dec,  1676:  A  I'egard 
de  Mme.  Mazarin,  la  seule  chose  que  je  sgais,  c'est  que 
le  Roi  d^couche  fort  souvent,  et  qu'il  ne  revi(;nt  qu'k  cinq 
heures  du  matin  se  remettre  dans  son  lit.  Les  courtisans 
les  plus  ^clair^s  ne  croient  pas  qu'il  passe  Sds  nuits  chez 
Mme.  de  P.  II  lui  donne  toutes  les  appareiices  pendant 
le  jour,  mais  il  se  reserve  la  libertd  de  passer  la  nuit  avec 
qui  bon  lui  semble."    (Courtin  a  Louvois.) 


\ 

{ 


i\ 


i«( 


278         CHARLES    II   AND   HIS  COURT 

"4  Mars,  1677:  Mme.  Mazarin  a  este  depuis  trois 
heures  jusqu'^  sept  avec  le  Roy ;  il  y  a  deux  apparte- 
mens  qui  tiennent  au  sien  ou  Ton  entre  par  plusieurs 
portes  difF6rentes,  dont  il  n*y  a  que  lui  et  un  valet  de  chambre 
de  confiance  qui  aient  le  clef."     (Courtin  k  Pomponne.) 

"  La  passion  du  jeu  qui  Tenvahit  peu  a  peu  tout, 
enti^rene  donnait  pas  moins  de  d^pit  a  St.-Evremond.  II 
fait  remonter  a  1682,  annde  de  la  preponderance  definitive 
de  la  Duchesse  de  Portsmouth,  la  passion  de  sa  rivale 
pour  la  bassette.  EUe  passe  les  nuits  a  tailler  la  banque, 
elle  oublie  son  bouffon  Maurice,  son  chien  Chop,  son  chat 
Pussy,  et  son  perroquet  Pretty.  Le  jour,  elle  va  en  bateau 
sur  la  Tamise  acheter  des  curiosit^s  aux  vaisseaux  qui 
reviennent  des  Indes.  Les  journ^es  passees  aux  courses  de 
Newmarket  sont  moins  monotones  :  on  est  k  cheval  d^s 
cinq  heures  du  matin,  on  entend  le  soir  les  drames  de 
Shakespeare ;  mais,  au  goilt  de  St.-Evremond,  toutes  les 
pieces  de  ces  temps  Ici  sont  fort  ennuyeuses  ;  la  nuit, 
souper  aux  huitres.  Mme.  Mazarin  est  toujours  entour^e 
d'un  cercle  d'adoratrices ;  outre  Mme.  Harvey,  elle  tient 
sous  son  charme  mile,  de  Beverweert-Nassau,  qu'elle 
nomme  Lottee  et  qui  est  chargde  de  la  servir  k  sa  toilette. 
Elle  a  encore  parmi  ses  suivantes  mile,  de  Bragelone,  la 
Brenier,  et  mile,  de  la  Roche-Guilhem,  qui  ^crit  des 
romans.  Toute  lutte  a  cess6  contre  la  triomphante 
Portsmouth."     (Barillon.) 

Mme.  Mazarin  would  seem  to  have  possessed  certain 
masculine  qualities  which  appealed  strongly  to  her  own 
sex ;  for  this  is  only  one  of  many  references  to  her 
entourage  of  women. 

Charles*  vagrant  fancy  rested  upon  such  other  ladies  as 
Catherine  Peg,  wife  of  Sir  Edward  Green,  Bt,  by  whom 
he  had  Charles  Fitzcharles,  otherwise  called  Don  Carlos, 
mentioned  in  1672  as  " a  finely  bred  youth,  with  a  great 
deal  of  witt."  Moll  Davies  the  actress  reigned  for  a  short 
time.  But  the  only  other  important  mistresses  are  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth  and  Nell  Gwyn.     The  King  was 


LOUISE  DE   KEROUALLE 


279 


attracted  by  Louise  de  Keroiialle,  his  sister's  Breton  maid- 
of-honour,  in  1669,  but  Henrietta  refused  to  allow  the  girl 
to  stay  in  England.  In  1670,  however,  Louise  came  over 
again,  this  time  as  a  secret  agent  of  Louis  XI V,  nominally 
as  maid-of-honour  to  the  English  Queen.  In  September, 
Charles  is  said  to  be  always  finding  opportimities  to  talk 
with  her  in  the  Queen's  room,  but  not  yet  to  have  chatted 
in  her  own.  In  November,  1670,  Evelyn  describes  her  as 
*'  of  a  childish,  simple,  and  baby  face."  Yei:  this  childish 
and  simple- looking  beauty  ruled  King  Charles  for  a  longer 
time,  and  with  a  more  extensive  jurisdiction,  than  any 
other  of  his  mistresses,  though  he  tired  of  her  physical 
charms  towards  the  end  of  his  life.  She  was  clever,  an 
apt  pupil  of  French  intrigue,  and  one  of  the  few  gentle- 
women, both  by  birth  and  nature,  among  Char  es'  favourites. 
In  October,  167 1,  Colbert  says  that  the  Kin:^  shows  great 
passion  for  her,  and  has  given  her  a  finely  furnished  set  of 
lodgings  in  Whitehall.  "  His  Majesty  goes  to  her  rooms 
at  nine  o'clock  every  evening,"  staying  till  ten  or  eleven. 
**He  returns  after  dinner,  and  shares  in  all  her  stakes  and 
losses  at  cards,  never  letting  her  want  for  anything.  I 
believe  I  can  assure  you  that  she  has  so  get  round  King 
Charles  as  to  be  of  the  greatest  service  to  our  sovereign 
and  master,  if  she  only  does  her  duty."  Later  in  the 
same  month,  Colbert  notes  the  King's  careful  and  lover- 
like behaviour  to  Louise  at  Newmarket.  It  was  in  this 
month  also  that  she  probably  became  an  actual  mistress 
of  the  King's,  at  Euston,  "and  stocking  flang  after  the 
raanner  of  a  married  bride."  In  January,  1672,  "Md"* 
Keerwell  is  infinitely  in  favour,  and  to  say  truth,  she  seems 
as  well  to  deserve  it,  for  she  is  wondrous  hindsome,  and 
they  say,  as  much  witt  and  addresse  as  ever  anybody 
had."  In  1673,  she  was  created  Duchess  o  f  Portsmouth, 
and  in  1675  her  son  by  Charles  was  made  Duke  of 
Richmond.     She  died  in  1734,  aged  eighty-five. 

The  Breton  mistress  always   figured   mere  often  and 
more  significantly  in  Court  life  than  the  Cle>'eland  or  Nell 


^r 


Hj^ 


i\ 


ii 


280         CHARLES  II  AND  HIS  COURT 

Gwyn,  and  really  did  have  some  slight  influence  in  political 
matters.     She  possessed  manners  and  discretion,  besides 
personal  charm,  and  her  sway  as  mattresse  des  mattresses 
was   only  questioned   for   a   short  time  in    1676  by  the 
Duchess  Mazarin.     Lastly,  in  this  procession  of  filks  dt 
joie  comes  the  one  who  alone  of  them  all,  has  won  the 
esteem  and  the  affection  of  Englishmen,  both  in  her  life  and 
ever  since  her  death— Nell   Gwyn,  "Sweet    Nell   of  old 
Drury."     There  is  no  need  or  possibility  to  discuss  here 
the  moral  aspect  of  the  question ;  but  there  is  no  doubt 
that  Nelly's  popularity  had  a  true  and  firm  foundation 
first  because  she  was  a  Protestant  Englishwoman,  in  con- 
trast  to  Madam  Carwell,  but  afterwards,  as  she   became 
better  known,  because  of  certain  qualities  of  honesty,  faith- 
fulness, and  warm-hearted  merriment,  that  appealed  to  all. 
She  was  born  in  February,  165 1,  either  in  Hereford  or 
London.      Her   mother,  always  among  the  dregs  of  the 
people,  died  in   1679  by  drowning  herself  while  drunk. 
Nelly  was  brought  up  in  a  brothel,  to  fill  strong  waters  to 
the  gentlemen,  and  later  became   an  orange-girl  at  the 
theatre,  and  later  still  an  actress.    She  first  appeared  at 
,/  Drury  Lane  in  1665,   as   Cydaria   in  Dryden's   *^  Indian 
Emperor,"  a  serious  part,  and  therefore  unsuited  for  her. 
As    Florimel    in  Dryden's    "Secret    Love,"    in  March] 
1667,  she    won    much   more  approval.      In  July,    1667,  ^^ 
she  became  the  mistress  of  Lord  Buckhurst,  and  went  with 
him    to   Epsom,  with    an    allowance   of  ;^ioo    a  year, 
but  in  August  she  was  back  at  the  King's  theatre,  and  in 
January,  1668,  "  the  King  did  send  several  times  for  Nelly, 
and  she  was  with  him  "  ;  though  she  may  have  completed 
his   enslavement    by    her  delivery   of   the   Epilogue   to 
Dryden's  "Tyrannic  Love"  in  1668-69.1     It  is  probable 

'  Spoken  by  Mrs.  EUen  when  she  was  to  be  carried  oflF  dead  by  the 
bearers.  ' 

To  the  Bearer, 

•*  Hold,  are  you  mad,  you  damn'd  confounded  dog? 
I  am  to  rise,  and  speak  the  epilogue." 


NELL  GWYN 


2S1 


that  she  permanently  retired  from  the  stage  ia  1670.  She 
lived  in  Drury  Lane,  where  Pepys  saw  her  stmding  at  her 
door,  and  thought  her  "a  mighty  pretty  creature  in 
her  smock-sleeves  and  bodice."  Afterwards  she  lived  in 
Lincoln*s-Inn-Fields,  where  her  first  son  by  the  King  was 
born ;  then  on  the  north  side  of  Pall  Mall,  ar  d  finally,  till 
her  death  in  1687,  at  No.  79  (now  the  Ea^.le  Insurance 
Office) ;  where  her  second  son,  James  Lord  Beauclerc,  was 
bom,  25  December,  1671.  Her  impudence  and  unfailing 
good  humour  recommended  her  to  the  Kng,  and  she 
endeared  herself  to  him  by  the  real  honesty  Df  her  nature 
and  her  love  for  him  as  a  man,  which  was  perhaps  not 
shared  by  any  other  of  the  mistresses.  Alnciost  as  many 
of  her  witty  or  sharp  retorts  survive,  as  of  the  King's.  The 
Oxford  mob  once  began  to  stone  her  carriage,  believing 
it  to  be  Carwell's :  Nell  only  put  out  her  lead,  saying, 
"  Don't  hurt  me,  good  people  I  I  am  the  Protestant  whore." 
When  the  King  visited  her  on  one  occasion,  she  called  her 
boy  to  her,  saying,  "  Come  hither,  bastard,"  s.nd  when  the 
King  expostulated,  said  she  had  no  better  name  to  call 
him  by,  whereupon  the  King  created  him  Ea-1  of  Burford. 
To  a  courtier  soliciting  her  favours  she  remarked  that  "  she 
was  not  so  poor  a  sportsman  as  to  lay  the  dDg  where  the 
deer  had  lain."  She  was  an  admirable  mimic:  of  the  King 
and  others,  and  utterly  fearless  of  rivals  or  c»f  great  men, 
being  annihilatingly  quick  in  retort.  She  called  Mon- 
mouth "Prince  Perkin,"  and  on  his  calling  her  "ill-bred," 
said,  "  Was  Mrs.  Barlow  any  better  bred  than  I  ? "  When 
the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  went  into  mourning  for  her 
alleged  cousin,  the  Prince  de  Rohan,  Nell  did  the  same  for 
the  Cham  of  Tartary,  and  when  asked  what  relation  he 
was  to  her,  answered :  "  Exactly  the  same  relation  that 
the  Prince  de  Rohan  was  to  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth." 
She  retained  her  fluency  of  epithet  and  invective  and  the 
Carwell  once  said  of  her,  "  Any  one  can  tell  she  has  been 
an  orange-wench,  by  her  swearing."  Some  of  her  letters 
are  fortunately  preserved :  (August,  1678)    "  Pray  deare 


■  ■ 


I    ) 


l!|i 


I  ,  I 


•i    I 


282 


CHARLES    II   AND    HIS   COURT 


Mr.  Hide  [Lawrence  H.]  forgive  me  for  not  writing  to  you 
before  now,  for  the  reason  is  I  have  bin  sick  thre  months, 
and  sinse  I   recovered  I  have  had  nothing  to  intertaine 
you     withall,    nor    have    nothing    now    worth    writing, 
but    that     I    can    holde  no    longer    to    let    you    know 
I  never    have  ben    in  any  companie   wethout    drinking 
your  health,  for  I  love  you  with  all  my  soule.     The  pel 
mel  is  now  to  me  a  dismale  place  since  I  have  utterly  lost 
Sr.  Car  Scrope  never  to  be  recoverd  agane,  for  he  tould  me 
he  could  not  live  alwayes  at  this  rate,  and  so  begune  to  be 
a  littel  uncivil,  which  I  could  not  sufer  from  an  uglye  daiix 
garscon.     Mrs.  Knight's  lady  mother's  dead,  and  she  has 
put  up  a  scutchin  no  beiger  then  my  Lady  Orin's  scunchis. 
My  lord  Rochester  is  gone  in  the  cuntrei.     Mr.  Savil  has 
got  a  misfortune,  but  is  upon  recovery  and  is  to  mary  an 
hairess,  who  I  think  wont  wont  [sic\  have  an  ill  time  ont  if 
he  holds  up  his  thumb.     My  lord  of  Dorscit  apiers  worze 
in  thre  months  for  he  drinkes  aile  with  Shadwell  and  Mr. 
Haris  at  the  Duke's  home  [house  ?]  all  day  long.     My  lord 
Burford  remimbers  his  sarvis  to  you.     My  Lord  Bauclaire 
is  is  [sic]  goeing  into  france.     We  are  agoeing  to  supe 
with  the  King  at  Whithall  and  my  lady   Harvie.     The 
King  remembers  his  sarvis  to  you.     Now  lets  talk  of  state 
affairs,  for  we  never  caried  things  so  cunningly  as  now,  for 
we  don't  know  whether  we  shall  have  peace  or  war,  but  I 
am  for  war,  and  for  no  other  reason  but  that  you  may  come 
home.    I  have  a  thousand  merry  conseets,  but  I  can't  make 
her  write  me,  and  therefore  you  must  take  the  will  for  the 
deed.    God  bye.    Your  most  loveing  obedient  faithfull  and 
humbel   sarvant,   E.    G."      Again:    "These    for   Madam 
Jennings  over  against  the  Tub  Tavern  in  Jermyn  St.,  Lon- 
don.    Windsor,  Burford  House,  April  14,  1684 :  Madam, 
I  have  received  y'  Letter,  and  I  desire  y"  would  speake  to 
my   Ladie  Williams  to   send    me  the  Gold  Stuffe,  and 
a  Note  with  it,  because  I   must  sign  it,  then  she  shall 
have  her  money  y^  next  Day  of  M^  Trant ;  pray  tell  her 
Ladieship  that  I  will  send  her  a  Note  of  what  Quantity  of 


LETTERS 


283 


jjj^ngs  rie  have  bought,  if  her  Ladieship  will  put  herselfe 
to  y«^trouble  to  buy  them ;  when  they  are  bought  I  will 
sign  a  Note  for  her  to  be  payd.     Pray  Madam  let  y*  Man 
goe  on  with  my  Sedan,  and  send  Potvin  and  Mr.  Coxer 
down  to  me,  for  I  want  them  both.     The  Bill  is  very  dear 
to  boyle  the  Plate,  but  necessity  hath  noe  ]"^aw.     I  am 
afraid  M"\  you  have  forgott  my  Mantle,  which  you  were 
to  line  with  Musk  Colour  Sattin,  and  all  my  o:her  Things, 
for  you  send  me   noe  Patterns   nor  Answer.     Monsieur 
Lainey  is  going  away.     Pray  send  me  word  about  your 
son  Criffin,  for  his  Majestie  is  mighty  well  pleased  that  he 
will  goe  along  with  my  Lord  Duke.     I  am  af -aid  you  are 
so  much  taken  up  with  your  owne  House,  thai:  you  forget 
my  Business.     My  service  to  dear  Lord  Kildare,  and  tell 
him  I  love  him  with  all  my  heart.    Pray  1^1  .  see  that 
Potvin  brings  now  all  my  Things  with  him;    My  Lord 
Duke's  bed,  &c.,  if  he  hath  not  made  them  all  up,  he  may 
doe  that  there,  for  if  I  doe  not  get  my  Things  out  of  his 
Hands  now,  I  shall  not  have  them  until  this  time  twelve- 
month.    The  Duke  brought  me  down  with  hini  my  Crochet 
of  Diamonds  ;  and  I  love  it  the  better  because  he  brought 
it     Mr.  Lumley  and  everie  body  else  will  tel .  you  that  it 
is  the  finest  Thing  that  ever  was  seen.     Good  M'"  speake 
to  Mr.  Beaver  to  come  down  too,  that  I  miy  bespeake 
a  Ring  for  the  Duke  of  Grafton  before  he  goes  into  France. 
I  have  continued  extreme  ill  ever  since  you  kift  me,  and  I 
am  soe  still.     I  have  sent  to  London  for  a  D  *.     I  believe 
I  shall  die.     My  service  to  the  Duchess  of  Noifolk,  and  tell 
her,  I  am  as  sick  as  her  Grace,  but  do  not  know  what  I  ayle, 
although  shee  does.  .  .  .  Pray  tell  my  Ladie  Williams  that 
the  King's  Mistresses  are  accounted  ill  paymasters,  but 
shee  shall  have  her  Money  the  next  Day  after  I  have  the 
stuffe.     Here  is   a  sad  slaughter  at  Windsor,  the  young 
mens  taking  y'  Leaves  and  going  to  France,  and,  although 
they  are  none  of  my  Lovers,  yet  I  am  loath  to  part  with 
the  men.    Mrs.  Jennings,  I  love  you  with   ail  my  Heart 
and  soe  good  bye.     E.  G.   Let  me  have  an  Aiswer  to  this 


1 3 


i 


284         CHARLES   II  AND  HIS   COURT 

Letter/'  The  next  two  letters  are  addressed  to  James  II 
and  have  an  honester  ring  than  most  letters  similar  in 
subject :  "  Had  I  sufered  for  my  God  as  I  have  don  for  y 
brother  and  y",  I  shuld  not  have  needed  ether  of  y'  kindnes 
or  justis  to  me.  I  beseech  you  not  to  doe  anything  to  the 
settling  of  buisines  till  I  speake  w'^  you,  and  apoynt  me  by 
Mr.  Grahams  when  I  may  speake  with  you  privetly.  God 
make  you  as  happy  as  my  soule  prayes  you  may  be,  y''." 
"  S%  this  world  is  not  capable  of  giving  me  a  greater  joy 
and  happynes  then  y'  Ma'^*^^  favour,  not  as  you  are  King 
and  soe  have  it  y'  power  to  doe  me  good,  having  never 
loved  y  brother  and  y  selfe  upon  that  acount,  but  as  to  y' 
persons.  Had  hee  lived,  hee  tould  me  before  hee  dyed, 
that  the  world  shuld  see  by  what  hee  did  for  me  that  hee 
had  both  love  and  value  for  me,  and  that  hee  did  not  doe 
for  me  as  my  mad  Lady  Woster.  Hee  was  my  frind  ^  and 
allowed  me  to  tell  him  all  my  grifes,  and  did  like  a  frind  ^ 
advise  me  and  tould  me  who  was  my  frind  ^  and  who  was 
not.  S:  the  honour  y""  Ma''"  has  don  me  by  Mr.  Grahams 
has  given  me  great  comfort,  not  by  the  present  you  sent 
me  to  releeve  me  out  of  the  last  extremety,  but  by  the 
kind  expressions  hee  made  me  from  you  of  y'  kindnes 
to  me,  w"^  to  me  is  above  al  things  in  this  world,  having, 
God  knows,  never  loved  y  brother  or  yr  selfe  interestedly. 
All  you  doe  for  me  shall  be  yours,  it  being  my  resolution 
never  to  have  any  interest  bat  y'',  and  as  long  as  I  live  to 
serve  you,  and  when  I  dye  to  dye  for  y"."  In  November, 
1687,  "pretty  witty  Nelly"  died,  aged  36;  and  the  only 
popular  mistress  of  the  King,  and  the  only  one  unchanged 
and  unspoilt  by  her  sudden  rise  in  the  world ;  even  her 
clothes  "she  continued  to  hang  on  .  .  .  with  her  usual 
negligence  when  she  was  the  King's  mistress,  but  whatever 
she  did  became  her."  We  cannot  do  better  than  conclude 
this  necessarily  brief  and  arid  account  of  Nell  Gwyn  by 
quoting,  first  the  words  of  Wheatley,  "  that  there  is  little 
to  be  said  of  her  character,  for  the  public  has  made  up  its 

'  Charles*  own  characteristic  spelling. 


CHARLES   II 


28s 


mind  on  this  point,"  and  the  sonnet  of  Swinburne  which 

here  follows. 

"Sweet  heart,  that  no  taint  of  a  throne  or  the  si  age 
Could  touch  with  unclean  transformation,  or  alter 
To  the  Ukeness  of  courtiers  whose  consciences  falter 
At  the  smile  or  the  frown,  at  the  mirth  or  the  rage. 
Of  a  master  whom  chance  could  inflame  or  assuage. 
Our  Lady  of  Laughter,  invoked  in  no  psalter, 
Adored  of  no  faithful  that  cringe  and  that  palter, 
Praise  be  with  thee  yet,  from  a  hag-ridden  ag<;. 
Our  Lady  of  Pity  thou  wast :  and  to  thee 
All  England,  whose  sons  are  the  sons  of  the  soa, 
Gives  thanks,  and  will  hear  not  if  history  snails 
When  the  name  of  the  friend  of  her  sailors  is  spoken ; 
And  thy  lover  she  cannot  but  love — by  the  tolcen 
That  thy  name  was  the  last  on  the  lips  of  King  Charles."* 


]\Iore    nonsense    has    been    written    on    th 
Charles    II,   and    especially  on    Charles    a 
Politician,  than,  perhaps,  on  any  other  subje 
history.     The  causes  whereof,  or  some  of  t 
far  to  seek.     First,  ignorance ;  second,   pre- 
inability  or  refusal  to  take  a  view  of  the 
doings  as  a  whole.     No  one  has  ever  written 
with  moderation  and  balance,  any  more  than  I 
now  with  temperate  and  unbiassed  mind.     It 
to  do  so ;  for  whatever  a  writer's  opinions  of 
they  are  necessarily  forcible  and  decisive, 
if  they  'ates  yer,  sir ;  but  it's  mortal  bad  if 
yer,"  was  said  to  a  notable  nineteenth-centur 
in  the  anxious  early  days  of  a  pet  scheme  ;  ai 
have  certainly  never  been  despised  :   nor  h 
ever  been  really  contemned  :  many  writers,  es 
noted,  the  historians,  affect  to  despise  him ; 
volume  and  venom  of  the  words  in  which  the 
only  hatred  and  fear,  not  contempt :  he  is 
example  of  certain  political  vices  which  they  a 
been  the  basis  and  root  of  his  nature  and  pc 

*  VolUcied  JVorks,  iij.  259. 


s  subject  of 
3  King  and 
ct  in  English 
lem,  are  not 
udice ;  third, 
man  and  his 
3f  the  Stuarts 
write  of  them 
is  impossible 
whem  may  be, 
"  Never  mind 
they  despises 
/  Churchman, 
id  the  Stuarts 
is  Charles  II 
pecially,  be  it 
but  the  very 
y  do  it,  prove 
taken  as  the 
5sume  to  have 
licy,  and  they 


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286 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS  COURT 


/ 


construct  a  creature  for  whom  the  Merry  Monarch  himself 
'could  not  have  found   a  laugh  or  an  excuse.     The  fact 
remains,  that  he  was  one  of  the  astutest  and  most  successful 
politicians  who  ever  sat  on  the  English  Throne  ;  and  who 
had  our  interests  at  heart,  though  thwarted  at  every  turn 
by  a  selfish   House  of  Commons ;  one  of  the  earliest  of 
our  Kings  with   an   Imperialist  ideal.     It  is   absurd  to 
suppose  that  a  man  who,  from  indisputable  evidence  was 
a  lover  of  the  English  and  the  Navy,  and  who  was  proud 
to  a  degree,  should  have  taken  the  gold  of  Louis,  except 
when  all  means  of  getting  a  fair  and  legitimate  allowance 
from    the    English    Parliament,   had    failed.      We   must 
remember,  too,  the  phrase  of  Tennyson  now  general  through 
repetition,  but  still  true :   "  that  fierce  light  that  beats  upon 
a  throne  "  ;  rendered  doubly  fierce,  in  comparison  with  that 
which  beat  upon  his  predecessors,  by  the  vast  number  of 
chatty  and  scandalous  memoirs  which  became  the  fashion 
about    the    middle   of  the   seventeenth   century.    Again 
nearly  all  those  who  have  written  of  Charles  II  persist  in 
judging  his  political  actions  by  the  nominal  moral  standard 
of  our  day,  which  was  not  that  of  his.     One  writer  at  least 
praises  Louis  XIV  for  some  of  the  very  qualities  for  which 
he  curses  Charles  II,  such  as  state -craft,  power  of  dissimu- 
lation, and  the  like :  in  other  words,  Le  Grand  Mbnar que  has 
been  able  to  impose  his  figure  upon  us,  (though  outwitted 
by  Charles  on  more  than  one  occasion),  and   is  praised, 
because  backed  by  all  France,  he  succeeded  ;  while  Charles, 
alone,    Carolus    contra  mundMtn   in    politics,    is   attacked 
because  certain  people  think  he  failed.    Yet  he  gained  the 
main  object  of  his  reign — absolutism.     In  many  cases,  I 
have  no  doubt  that  the  prejudice  against  Charles  is  due  to 
his  private  morals,  which  hav<i  also  been  represented  as  much 
blacker  and  more  sordid  than  they  were  ;    into  a  moral 
question,  I  will  not  enter ;  yet,  I  would  say  that  Charles  was 
one  of  the  best  men  at  his  Court,  bad  as  he  was.     Mr. 
Chesterton  has  pointed  out  that  Charles  II,  however,  like 
most  men,  he  fell  and  swerved  from  his  ideals,  had  certain 


HIS   CHARACTER 


287 


definite  principles,  and  taught  Englishmen  the  practice 
and  the  love  of  those  semi-virtues,  includ<;d  under  the 
head  of  being  "  a  gentleman  "  in  the  best  n:  odern  sense  ; 
which,  moreover,  play  such  a  large  part  in  thci  happiness  or 
misery  of  everyday  life.  Charles  was  no  doi  bt  tainted  by 
the  great  vice  of  the  time,  affectation  :  and  tliis  made  him, 
as  it  makes  many  Englishmen  to-day,  pretend  and  appear 
to  be  worse  than  he  really  was  ;  and  though  this  is  a  poor 
plea,  especially  for  a  man  in  an  influential  pos:  tion,  it  serves 
to  remind  us  that  we  must  not  neglect  the  deeper  side  of 
his  nature,  which  appeared  in  his  relations  with  all  those  who 
loved  Charles  Stuart,  and  not  Charles,  King  ol  Great  Britain 
and  the  rest.  Some  have  excused  his  sulDsequent  life, 
because  of  his  unfortunate  education  at  home  and  abroad, 
till  1660 :  but  they  also  assume  too  much  need  for  excuse. 
Let  us  remember  his  comparatively  early  death  and  zealous 
attempts  to  reign  better  in  his  later  years.  No  King  has 
ever  had  fair  play  from  posterity,  and  I  suspect  that 
Charles  II  has  had  rather  less  than  most  English  monarchs. 
Let  us  study  not  only  politics  but  also  pri  /ate  life,  and 
not  each  separately,  and  there  may  be  some  possibility  of 
arriving  at  a  fair  estimate  of  a  man.  Charles  was  more 
closely  and  intimately  in  contact  with  all  grades  and  kinds  of 
his  subjects  than  any  previous  King,  and  more  of  his  acts  and 
careless  words  have  therefore  been  reported ;  and  for  every 
careless  word  he  spoke  he  has  been  called  in  judgment 
here,  by  posterity.  I  acknowledge  that  I  an  a  partisan, 
and  have  always  been  so,  but  I  have  endeavo  ired  to  divest 
myself  of  all  prejudice  in  writing  this  essay,  and  I  would 
ask  others  to  do  the  same  in  judging  of  its  subject.  To 
conclude,  why  is  King  Charles  still,  in  spite  of  his 
"  treachery,"  "  cowardice,*'  "  immorality,"  and  "  black- 
guardism," one  of  the  most  popular  figures  among  our  past 
monarchs,  and  the  one  of  whom  most  traits  and  anecdotes 
have  become  household  words?  Concerning  him  also, 
the  public  has  made  up  its  mind  that  he  was  a  very 
pleasant  fellow. 


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u 


I  i 


i'  i  1 


I    1    T 


k 


I 

3      ! 


II 


i 


W 


\ 


290  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

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h 


ii. 


'  i' 


% 


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li^ 


h' 


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.     "  Barbara,  Duchess  of  Cleveland."     1871-78. 

Street,  G.  S.     "  Quales  Ego."     190-. 

Strickland,  A.    "  Lives  of  the  Tudor  and  Stuart  Irincesses."    Ed 
1888. 

Sirutt, Joseph.     "Sports  and  Pastimes  of  England."     Ed.  Cox, 
1906. 

Sydney.    "  Papers,"  etc.     Ed.  R.  W.  Blencowe,  1825. 

.    "  Diary,"  etc.    Ed.  R.  W.  Blencowe,  184.5. 

Temple,  Sir  William.     "  Works." 

Timbs,  John.    "  History  of  Clubs  and  Club  Life,"  etc.    Ed.  1 8  7  5 . 

Traill,  H.D.     "Shaftesbury."     1888. 

Trevelyan,  G.     "  England  under  the  Stuarts."     1 905. 

Vaughan,  Henry.     "Poems."     190-.     (Muses*  Library.) 

Vemey  Memoirs.     Ed.  1904. 

Waller,  Edmund.     "  Poems."     (Muses'  Library.) 

Warburton,  Eliot.     "  Rupert  and  the  Cavaliers."     18—. 

Warwick,  Sir  Philip.     "  Memoirs." 

Wheatley,  H.  B.    "Samuel  Pepys  and  the  World  he  lived  in." 

1895. 
Wilde,  R.    « Iter  Boreale."     1670. 
Wycherley,  William.     "Plays."     Ed.  Leigh  Hunt  184-. 


\ 


\  ! 


li 


W 


I'    1" 


APPENDIX 

Note  A,  p.  55. 

WE  see  from  the  following  letter,  supposed  to  have 
been  written  by  Waller,  the  poet,  to  St.  Evremond, 
that  Charles  was  not  wholly  without  relaxation  or 
amusement  during  his  stay  with  the  Pendereh:  *'Iwas  much 
pleased  with  a  conversation  which  I  overheard  a  few  days  ago 
between  the  King  and  an  honest  Worcesterst  ire  baronet,  who 
was  lately  elected  for  a  borough  in  that  couity.  The  good- 
natured  man  came  up  to  take  his  seat  among  us,  and,  as  he  lived 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Royal  Oak,  he  supposed  that  he 
could  not  pay  a  better  compliment  to  his  ]*lajesty  than  by 
bringing  a  branch  of  his  old  asylum.  '  Who  is  that  antique,' 
said  the  King,  *  with  a  withered  branch  in  his  hand  ? '  *  It  is 
Sir  Thomas ,  member  for .' 

King:  "  *  Sir  Thomas,  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  I  hope  you  can 
give  a  good  account  of  our  friends  in  Worcesten  hire.' 

Sir  T. :  "  *  I  wish  I  could,  please  your  Majesty,  but  there  is  a 
blacksmith's  wife.' 

K, :  "  *  No  matter  for  her.     I  enquired  only  after  the  health 

of  your  family.' 

SirT.:  "*  Thank  God,  in  good  health.  But  this  woman, 
please  your  Majesty,' 

K:  "'What  of  her?' 

Sir  T, :  "  *  Has  sworn  a  child  to  your  Majesty.' 

K. :  "  '  I  am  glad  of  it.  I  do  remember  that  I  met  a  woman 
when  I  went  a  wood-cutting  with  Farmer  Penderel.* 

Sir  T, :  "  *  A  rosy  complexion,  please  your  JIajesty.' 

K. :  "  *  No  matter.  What  is  become  of  the  woman  and  her 
child  ? ' 

Sir  T,:  **  *  She  is  very  well  taken  care  of,  please  your  Majesty. 


!:'' 


\     t 


!*^ 


296         CHARLES  II  AND  HIS  COURT 

The  churchwardens  are  my  tenants,  and  I  ordered  them  to  aUow 
her  an  upper  sheet.'  *'^°* 

^..-  "'Fie!  fie!' 

Sir  T. :  " '  Please  your  Majesty,  I  was  near  losing  my  election 
by  .t.  Some  of  that  parish  were  free  men,  and  they  s  Jd  tS  j 
as  a  magistrate,  ought  to  have  sent  a  warrant  to  your  Majesty  and 
give  a  bond  to  the  parish  to  pay  ten  pounds.'  ^'     ^ 

J^. :  "  '  Why  did  you  not  do  your  duty  ? ' 

„..  f ''/■  C  "  '  ^^^"f  ^'  P'^^se  yo"  Majesty,  I  thought  it  my  duty 
^°  ^l  %  ^°"  ^'-'^^^'y  ^^  •'^^^  -'  -  g^eat  expense  of  ff 
iT  ••       True,  very  true.  Sir  Thomas.     What  is  that  branch  in 

S.'        '°'"'  *""'"■ '  ^"PP°^^-  ''y '^'^'^'^  y°«  '^"id  yoi^ 

vo/tn^V"  ".'t^°'  '?  T^*'"^  ^y  "'•''^^  y°"^  Majesty  holds 

v^f^lT  ;.,  '^^'^°*''*°^"^'  '"^^^^<^  °^  which  preserved 
your  Majesty's  precious  life.' 

T  .»,^'i;'  "  '^r'"  ?'  *  ''°°'^^°  compliment;  but  it  is  honest,  and 
I  thank  you  for  it  You  have  wit.  Sir  Thomas  ;  why  do  n^t  we 
see  you  oftener  at  Court  ? '  .       j-    «  uoi  we 

rnJt  ^u    ,"  '^■"'^  ^°  ''°"'  ^^J®'*^  "»"<='»  ""ore  service  in  the 

vo™  \^'^"^?u^  'P'"'  "^  '°y^*y  ^"'^  g°odwiU  towards 
you  amongst  my  neighbours.' 

■K- :  " '  And  how  do  you  manage  that  point  ? ' 
Str  T. :  "'  I  give  them  beef,  and  bid  them  fall  to  without  the 
long  grace  of  the  Roundheads.  Then  I  give  'em  strong  beer, 
and  they  cry,  "  God  bless  your  Majesty."  • 
»n^^''  V^i  **'  i^''^«  t°ast,  .Sir  Thomas,  you  are  the  King: 
Sm  T  T'  u*"^  ^°"  ^^^^^  *^«>  ^'th  profound  poli.;: 
tr!!h7  K  .T  ^  ^.  '""^^  measures,  I  should  have  much  less 
trouble ;  but  there  is  no  finding  beef  enough  for  the  hungry  circle 
Which  you  see  there/ 

Wnfr^^^'u-'^""^.^^^''  ^^"'  ^^j^'^y*  ^  ^^^^  te^  f^t  oxen  in 

l..J7^''-^i''''f  ^""i  ""^^^  °^  "^^  ^°^^^^  ^^^^^t's  ^^de  the  King 
M.W^Ti^^^  ^  '^u''  ''  P^'  "^  ^^^  *^  ^^^  conversation.  His 
ZTZ  ^  f.'^'V'^?  ^'^'  good-humour,  what  we  had  to  expect, 
and  added  that  he  hoped  every  member  of  the  House  would  be 
as  ready  to  give  as  Sir  Thomas  — ,  that  he  might  be  able  to 
find  wine  for  the  feast.  This  is  a  measure  which  I  will  promote 
with  all  my  power,  for  the  King's  necessities  are  truly  deplorable. 


APPENDIX 


297 


Considering  his  extreme  poverty,  his  good-humour  is  astonishing ; 
I  believe  there  never  was  a  prince  at  the  same  time  so  pleasant 
and  so  poor."  ^ 

Note  B,  p.  148. 

Fal'Maile,  or  Pall-Mall,  was  a  game  played  in  i  rolled  gravel- 
walk,  its  object  being  to  strike  a  ball  with  a  boxwood  mallet 
through  a  ring  hung  about  six  feet  from  the  grouid.  The  King 
was  good  at  the  game,  and  spent  much  time  and  care  over  the 
proper  preparation  of  the  Mall's  surfece  with  f  ne  gravel  and 
shells.    Waller  celebrates  the  King's  prowess  at  the  game : 

On  His  Majesty's  Improvements  in  St.  James*  Park. 

"Here  a  well-polish'd  Mall  give  us  the  jcy 
To  see  our  Prince  his  matchless  force  employ ; 
He  does  but  touch  the  flying  ball, 
And  'tis  already  more  than  half  the  Mall ; 
And  such  a  fury  from  his  arm  has  got, 
As  if  from  smoking  culverin  'twere  shot  "^ 

By  general  consent,  the  King  was  one  of  the  four  best  tennis- 
players  in  England ;  and  though  Pepys  objects  to  1  he  extravagant 
praise  given  by  spectators  to  his  play,  he  acknowhdges  that  it  is 
good. 

Compare  a  News-letter  of  June,  1660:  *'His  Majesty's  only 
recreation  as  yet  is  at  tennis  by  five  o'clock  ii  the  morning 
for  an  hour  or  two."  Again  :  "  5  October  [1660  ?  C  ouncil-Note  of 
Kling  to  Chancellor].  8  in  the  morning.  I  am  going  to  take  my 
vsuall  Phisique  at  tennis,  I  sende  you  heere  the  le  ters  which  my 
Lord  Aubigny  desires  me  to  write,  looke  them  over,  and  if  there 
be  no  exceptions  to  them,  retume  them  by  twelve  a  clock  for  I 
would  willingly  dispatch  them  this  aftemoone." 

Note  C,  p.  170. 

Charles  was  extremely  interested  in  clocks  and  watches,  and 
had  seven  clocks  in  his  bedroom,  while  on  the  flocT  of  the  ante- 
chamber stood  a  clock  which  told  the  hour  and  1  he  way  of  the 

^  Letters  supposed  to  have  passed  between  M.  de  St.  Evremond  and  Mr, 
Waller y  ij.  33  ;  Hore,  History  of  Newmarket^  ij.  249  sqq.  ;  Allan  Fea,  After 
Worcester  Fight,  xli.-xliv. 

*  \f>^sqq. 


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CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 

wind.  Hooke's  balance-spricg  action  was  tried  before  him  at 
Court ;  and  in  the  Secret  Service  Expenses  are  many  items 
relating  to  clocks  and  watches.  The  King  himself  took  Evelyn 
to  see  his  collection  of  these  objects.  One  of  his  last  acts  was 
to  order  the  clocks  in  his  room  to  be  wound   up.      Curiouslv 

Whitt?JaSel  """'^  "*  ''^  "'*^'  '^  ''''  ^"'  ^""■^'^'  - 

Note  D,  p.  i8i. 

Cf.  Pepys,  I o  July,  1663  :  ^*  I  met  Pierce  the  Chirurgeon,  who 
tells  me  that  for  certaine  the  King  is  grown  colder  to  my  Lady 
Castlemame  than  ordinary,  and  that  he  believes  he  begins  to 
love  the  Queene,  and  do  make  much  of  her,  more  than  he  used 
to  do."  On  the  4th  Pepys  had  said  that  the  Countess  had  left 
Court,  and  had  mentioned  «  a  wipe  "  given  her  by  the  Queen  • 
"  she  come  in  and  found  the  Queene  under  the  dresser's  hands* 
and  had  been  so  long:  *I  wonder  your  Majesty,'  says 
she,  can  have  the  patience  to  sit  so  long  a-dressing.'  *  I  have  so 
much  reason  to  use  patience,'  says  the  Queen,  '  that  I  can  very 
well  bear  with  it'  .  .  .  it  may  be  the  Queene  hath  commanded  her 
to  retire,  though  that  is  not  likely." 

Note  E,  p.  187. 

(Advertisement  in  the  "  Mercurius  Publicus,"  30  September 
1658.)  "  That  excellent  and  by  all  physicians  approved  China 
^mk,  called  by  the  Chineans,  ma,  by  other  Nations  Tay,  alias 
Tee,  IS  sold  at  the  SuUa^iess  Head  coffee-house,  in  Sweeting's 
Rents,  by  the  Royal  Exchange,  London."  ^  Coffee  was  first 
drunk  m  England  much  earher  than  this,  though  it  was  in  this 
reign  that  the  coffee-houses  became  "  tellement  repandues^  Evelyn 
mentions  coffee  being  drunk  in  Oxford  about  1643.  The 
following  advertisement  is  interesting  to  the  student  of  prices : 
("Mercurius  Publicus"  12-19  March,  1662):  "At  the  Coffee- 
house  m  Exchange  AUey  is  sold  by  retail  the  right  Coffee-powder 
from  4/-  to  6/-  per  lb.,  as  in  goodness :  that  pounded  in  a 
mortar  at  3/.  per  lb.;  also  that  termed  the  right  Turkie  Berry, 
well  garbled,  at  3/.  per  lb. :  the  ungarbled  for  less  ;  that  termed 
the  East  India  Berry  at  2od.  per  lb.,  with  directions  gratis  how  to 

»  Chambers'  Book  of  Days,  ij.  666  ;  Sampson,  History  of  Advertising,  p.  67. 


APPENDIX 


299 


make  and  use  the  same.    Likewise,  there  you  may  have  Tobacco, 
Verinas  and  Virginia,  Chocolatta — the  ordinary  ll).-boxes  at  2/- 
per  lb. ;   also  Sherbets  (made  in  Turkie)  of  Lemcns,  Roses,  and 
Violets  perfumed;  and  Tea,  according  to  its  goodness,  from  6/- 
to  60/-  per  lb.     For  all  of  which  if  any  Gentlemai  shall  write  or 
send  they  shall  be  sure  of  the  best  as  they  shall  order ;   and  to 
avoid  deceit,  warranted  under  the  House  Seal— viz.,  Morat  the 
Great^  "  &c.     Pepys  speaks  of  his  taking  "/-f^,"  28  Sept.,  1660; 
and  on  28  June,  1667  :    "  find  my  wife  making  of  tea ;    a  drink 
which  Mr.  Pelling,  the  Pothicary,  tells  her  is  good  for  her  cold." 
AH  kinds  of  virtues  were  attributed  to  Coffee,  especially  by  one 
of  its  earliest  vendors,  Pasqua  Rosee,  as  follows  :    "  The  Vertue 
of  the  Coffee  Drink,  First  made  and  Publickly  sold  in  England  by 
I>asqua  Rosee.    The  grain  or  berry  called  coffee  groweth  upon 
litde  trees  only  in  the  deserts  of  Arabia.     It  iu  brought  from 
thence,  and  drunk  generally  throughout  all  the  Grand  Seignour's 
dominions.     It  is  a  simple,  innocent  thing,  composed  into  a 
drink,  by  being  dried  in  an  oven,  and  ground  to  powder,  and 
tioiled  up  with  spring-water,  and  about  half  a  p  nt  of  it  to  be 
drunk  fasting  an  hour  before,  and  not  eating  an  hour  after,  and  to 
be  taken  as  hot  as  possibly  can  be  endured ;  the  ^  hich  will  never 
fetch  the  skin  off  the  mouth,  or  raise  any  blisters  bjr  reason  of  that 
heat.    The  Turks  drink  at  meals  and  other  times  s  usually  water, 
and  their  diet  consists  much  of  firuit ;  the  crudiries  \  thereof  are  very 
much  corrected  by  this  drink.    The  quality  of  this  drink  is  cold  and 
dry ;  and  though  it  be  a  drier,  yet  it  never  heats,  nc  r  inflames  more 
than  hot  posset.     It  so  incloseth  the  orifice  of  the  stomach,  and 
fbrtifieth  the  heat  within,  that  it  is  a  very  good  help  to  digestion ; 
and  therefore  of  great  use  to  be  taken  about  3  or  4  o'clock  after 
noon,  as  well  as  in  the  morning.     It  much  quiccens  the  spirits, 
and  makes  the  heart  lightsome ;  it  is  good  agains ;  sore  eyes,  and 
the  better  if  you  hold  your  head  over  it,  and  take  in  the  steam 
that  way.    It  suppresseth  fumes  exceedingly,  and  therefore  is  good 
against  the  headache,  and  will  very  much  stop  any  defluxion  of 
rheums,  that  distil   from  the   head  upon  the  stomach,  and  so 
prevent  and  help  consumptions  and  the  cough  of  the  lungs.     It 
is  excellent  to  prevent  and  cure  the  dropsy,  gcut,  and  scurvy. 
It  is  known  by  experience  to  be  better  than  aiy  other  drying 
drink  for  people  in  years,  or  children  that  ha/e  any  running 

>  I.e.  Sultan  Amurath  the  Great  of  Turkey.     Larwood  &  Hotten,  History 
of  Signboards,  p.  51. 


\ 


A 

II 


300         CHARLES  II  AND   HIS  COURT 

humours  upon  them,  as  the  king's  evil,  etc.    It  is  a  most  excellem 
remedy  agamst  the  spleen,  hypochondriac  winds,  and  the  like 
It  wJl  prevent  drowsiness,  and  make  one  fit  for  business,  if  one 
have  occasion  to  watch,  and  therefore  you  are  not  to  drink  of  it 
after  supper,  unless  you  intend  to  be  watchful,  for  it  will  hinder 
sleep  for  3  or  4  hours.     It  is  observed  that  in  Turkey,  where  this  is 
generaUy  drunk,  that  they  are  not  troubled  with  the  stone  gout 
dropsy  or  scurvy,  and  that  their  skins  are  exceeding  clear  and 
white.    It  IS  neither  laxative  nor  restringent.    Made  and  sold  in 
St.  Michael's  Alley  in  Comhill,  Pasqua  Rosee,  at  the  sign  of  his 
own  head."  »  Peacham,  in  the  1664  edition  of  his  "  Worth  of  id  " 
says,  "  for  id,  you  may  buy  a  dish  of  coffee,  to  quicken  yoilr 
stomach  and  refresh  your  spirits." 

Note  F,  pp.  195  and  283. 

Sedans  were  often  very  cosUy :  here  follows  a  bill  for  Nell 
Gwyn's  sedan-chair : 

The  body  of  the  chaire "  {"^^  'J^  f /^    ^ 

The  bestneats  leather  to  cover  the  outside  .  ]  '  3  lo  o 
600  inside  nailes,  coulerd  and  bumishd  .  .  .*  .quo 
600  guilt  with  water  gold  at  5J.  pn- cent.  .  .  *.  *  i  10  o 
1200  outside  nailes,  the  same  gold,  at  8s.  per  cent.     .        .      4  16    o 

300  studds,  the  same  gold ^  j^ 

2000  halfe  roofe  nailes,  the  same  gold  .  .  '.  ".  i  14  o 
200  toppit  nailes,  same  gold  .  .  .  .  .*  *  3  14  o 
5  sprigs  for  the  top,  rich  guilt  .  .  .  .  .*  .400 
a  haspe  for  the  doore,  rich  guilt  .        .        .        .        ]        !      i  10 

ffor  change  of  4  glasses .'20 

2  pound  5  J.  for  one  new  glasse,  to  be  abated  out  of  that  ffor 

a  broken  glasse  15J. i  10    o 

ffor  guilding  windows  and  irons i     c    o 

Serge  ffor  the  bottom *        *.      o    2 

canuisse  to  put  vnder  the  leather         .        .        .        .'        .080 

all  sorts  of  iron  nailes .'      o    c    o 

workmanshipe,  the  chaire  inside  and  outside      .        .*        *.      2  10    o 

Reict.  dated  July  1675  for  "  30^  in  full  discharge."      ^^  "    "^ 

>  Chsmh^rs^Bookc/Daj^s.i.  170-171  ;  cf.  LuitielYs  Bri^f  I^e/a/zan,  &c.,  i. 
378.  The  28th  May  [1686]  5  men  of  those  lately  condemned  at  the  sessions, 
were  executed  at  Tyburn ;  one  of  them  was  one  Pascha  Rose,  the  new  hang- 
man,  so  that  now  Ketch  is  restored  to  his  place." 


APPENDIX 

Here  is  another  bill  of  Nelly's  for  hired  sedan-chairs : 

For  careing  you  to  Mrs.  Knights  and  to  Madam  Younges, 

and  to  Madam  Churchfillds,  and  waiting  four  oui  es    . 
For  careing  you  the  next  day,  and  wateing  seven  oures 
For  careing  you  to  Mrs.   Knights,  and  to  Mrs.  Cassells 

[Nell's  sister],  and  to  Mrs.  ChurchiUs,  and  to  Mrs. 

Knights o 

For  careing  one  Lady  Sanes  to  y^  play  at  White  Hall,  and 

wayting o 

For  careing  you  yesterday,  and  wayting  elevenioures 


301 


o 
o 


5 
7 


o 
6 


o    II 


6 
6 


Ye  some  is 


13  October  75. 


I  II    6 


Reed,  them  of  Tho.  Groundes  in  full  of  these  Bills  and  all  other 
demands  from  Madam  Gwin,  32;^  by  me  William  Calow.' 


Note  G,  p.  196. 

The  signboards  became  so  serious  a  nuisanc 
blocking  out  air  and  light,  but  also  by  weakenin 
hiouses  to  which  they  were  attached,  and  sometime 
and  crushing  passers-by ;  that  after  the  Fire,  a  st 
that  "  no  sign-board  shall  hang  across,  but  the  sig 
against  the  balconies,  or  some  convenient  part 
Though  this  law  was  largely  evaded  in  practice,  y< 
did  adopt  carved  stone  signs,  painted  or  gilt,  let  ir 
below  the  first  floor  windows.  The  signs  gave  ( 
ment  to  countrymen  up  in  London. 


e,  not  only  by 
y  the  fronts  of 
s  by  falling  off 
itute  was  made 
n  shall  be  fixed 
of  the  house." 
5t  many  houses 
to  their  fronts 
mdless  amuse- 


Note  H,  p.  199. 

Various  quotations  on  dress-subjects  are  here  given  :  "  I  have 
also  sent  2  paire  of  Roman  gloves  which  cost  3  shillings  a  pair, 
and  2  paire  of  tanned  leather  gloves;  those  with  lined  topps  cost 
2s,  6d.,  y«  other  iSd."  (Chas.  Hatton  to  Chr.  Hitton,  18  May, 
1676.)  Cf.  De  Gramont,  p.  133,  and  Etheredge'i;  "Sir  Fopling 
Flutter"  (1676),  iij.  2. 

"  His  various  modes  from  fathers  follow ; 
One  taught  the  toss,  and  one  the  new  French  wallow  ; 
His  sword-knot  this,  his  cravat  that  designed  ; 
And  this  the  yard-long  snake  he  hoists  behind  ; 

»  Cunningham,  pp.  165-6 ;  H.  MSS.  Com.  Rep.  iij.     App.  p.  266. 


it 


/ 


302  CHARLES   II  AND   HIS   COURT 

From  one  the  sacred,  periwig  he  gained, 

Which  wind  ne'er  blew,  nor  touch  of  hat  profaned 

Another's  diving  bow  he  did  adore, 

Which  with  a  shog  casts  aU  the  hair  before, 

Till  he  with  full  decorum  brings  it  back, 

And  rises  with  a  water-spaniel  shake." 

(Dryden's  "  Epilogue  to  Sir  Fopling  Flutter.") 

"'The  suit?'     ^Barroy/     « The  garniture?'     «Le    Gras 
*The  shoes?'    'Piceat.'    *The  periwig?'     'Chedreux.'    'The 
Gloves  ? '    *  Orangerie ;  you  know  the  smell,  ladies."    (Etheredge's 
*^Sir  Fopling  Flutter  "  (1676),  iij.  i.)  ^ 

"  What  unlucky  accident  puts  you  out  of  humour  ? 
.  .  .  hair  shaded  awry  .?...'>  («  sir  Fopling,"  iij.  i.) 

"  Up  starts  a  Monsieur,  new  come  o'er,  and  warm 
In  the  French  stoop  and  pull  back  of  the  arm  ; 
*  Mordleu;  dit-il,  and  cocks,  *  I  am  a  rogue,' »  &c. 

(Dryden's  "  Epilogue  to  An  Evening's  Love.") 

"/  Your  breech  though  is  a  handful  too  high,  in  my  eye,  Sir 

^f^^'""^'  u?J^^^  ^"^^^y^  ^  ^^^^  ^i^h^d  it  lower  a  thousand 
times."    ("  Sir  F.  F.,"  iij.  5.) 

"Whitehall,  14  September,  1668.  At  my  return  from  Ports- 
mouth I  found  two  of  yours,  one  by  the  post,  and  the  other 
by  Mr.  Lambert,  with  the  gloves,  for  which  I  thanke  you 
extreamely.     They  are  as  good  as  is  possible  to  smelL 

"  14  December,  1668.  I  beg  your  pardon  for  forgetting,  in 
my  last  to  thanke  you  for  the  petticote  you  sent  me,  'tis  the 
lairest  I  ever  saw,  and  thanke  you  a  thousand  times  for  it." 

(Charles  II  to  Madame). 

Note  I,  p.  202. 

Trick-track  was  a  popular  game,  almost  the  same  as  back- 
gammon. Chess  was  also  played ;  but  both  these  games  were 
too  long  and  mtellectually  wearisome  for  that  headlong  and 
volatile  age ;  and  were  consequently  rather  to  be  found  in  country 
houses  than  at  Whitehall.  Yet  for  a  long  time,  a  chair  was  kept 
'''•i  !^.  ^  Mariners"  tavern,  Vauxhall,  in  which,  tradition 
said,  the  King  used  to  sit  and  play  chess,  on  some  of  his  river 
excursions.  It  was  certainly  a  splendid  chair,  with  high  elbows, 
tall  legs,  covered  with  purple  cloth,  and  studded  with  gilt  nails. 


APPENDIX 

Roger  North,  in  his  "  Autobiography,"  says,  "  th 
liJted  was  the  Spanish  game  of  I'hombre  .  .  .  aftei 
picquet  or  backgammon  the  public  hath  nothing 
loss  of  such  person's  time."  Cotton,  in  his  "  Comp 
(ist  ed.,  1674),  mentions  as  card  games  :  "Ruff 
or  Slam;  Whist;  French  Ruff;  Gleek;  Ombi 
Bankafelet;  Beast;  Basset;  Bragg;  Picquet;  Prim< 
All  Fours;  Five-Cards;  Bone-Ace;  Costly  Coloi 
and  Reason;  Art  of  Memory;  Plain  Dealing;  Qu 
Penneech ;  Post  and  Pair."  (The  games  most  o: 
in  contemporary  literature  are  in  italics.  Gleek, 
and  Primero  were  probably  old-fashioned  by  16 
add  to  this  list  Crimp. ) 

Crambo  was  a  rhyme-tagging  game. 

For  battledore  and  shuttlecock  we  may  comj 
of  Courtin  to  Lionne,  23  November,  1676  :  «  Mm( 
disna  hier  chez  moi,  aprbs  y  avoir  entendu  la  mes; 
ment,  et  qui  joua  toute  I'aprbs-disnde  au  volant 
avec  mme.  de  Sussex." 


303 

e  game  I  most 
twenty  sets  of 
to  shew  for  the 
leat  Gamester  " 
and  Honours, 
'e ;  Lanterloo  ; 
:ro;  Cribbage; 
irs;  Putt;  Wit 
een  Nazareen ; 
ten  mentioned 
Post  and  Pair, 
60.     We  may 


are  this  letter 
i.  Mazarin  qui 
ie  fort  devote- 
dans  ma  salle 


Note  J,  p.  202. 

(Inventory  of  Household  Goods  which  Mr.  Serjt.  N.  left 
with  his  son  in  March,  1666.)  «...  In  the  Great  Chamber. 
The  antechamber  hung  with  5  pieces  of  Landski])p  hangings,  a 
very  large  Bedstead  with  embroidered  curtains  rnd  valence  of 
broad  cloth,  lined  with  carnation-coloured  sarcenet,  and  seven 
plumes  of  feathers  on  the  bed  tester,  2  embroidered  carpets,  2 
aniied  chairs,  4  stools  embroidered,  suitable  to  th(j  bed,  a  Down 
bed  and  bolster  with  striped  ticks,  a  feather  bolster  at  the  head, 
and  a  wool  bolster  at  the  foot,  a  holland  quilt,  3  down  pillows 
and  carnation-coloured  quilt,  a  red  rug,  3  white  blankets,  and  a 
yeUow  blanket  under  the  bed.  A  looking-glass  em  ^roidered  with 
gold,  and  another  looking-glass,  6  flower-pots,  2  stands  and  a 
hanging  shelf  all  gilt,  a  pair  of  brass  andirons,  a  pair  of  creepers 
with  brass  knobs,  brass  and  fire-shovel  and  tongs,  a  picture  over 
the  chimney.  Carpets  round  the  bed,  5  sweet  brigs,  snuffers,  2 
branches,  &c."  ("  CavaUer  and  Puritan,"  p.  13.)  Carpets  were 
also  used  as  table-cloths ;  cf.  Etheredge's  "  She  Would  if  She 
Could." 


l\ 


f  I 


INDEX 


PERSONS 


■ 


Abell,  Mr.,  146 

*  ^  Achithophel,  "230.    Se^  Ashley  and 

Shaftesbury. 
Adams,  John,  117 
Ailesbury,  Marquis  of,  222  n.,  229, 

237,  240 
Airlie,  Earl  of,  43 
Albemarle,  Duke  of,  157-8 
Alonzo  de  Cardenas,  125 
Amy,  Captain,  36 
Anglesey,  Lord,  159 
Ajihalt,  Prince  of,  131 
Anne,  Henrietta,  See  Henrietta  Anne 

and  Madame. 
Anne  Hyde,  272-3 
Anne  Marie  de    Montpensier.      See 

Mile,  de  Montpensier. 
Anne  Murray.     See  Murray. 
Anne,  Princess,  216  and  note 
Anthony  Ashley  Cooper,  156-7,  and 

see  Shaftesbury 
Archbishop  of   Canterbury,  173  n., 

and  see  Sancroft 
Argyll,  Marquis  of,  43,  160 
Arlington,  Lord,  201,  206,  252,  259, 

271,  and  see  Bennett 
Armourer,  Sir  Nicholas,  260 
Armstrong,  Sir  Thomas,  212 
A)rran,  Earl  of,  258 
Ascham,  28 

*'  Ashburnham,  Will,"  63 
Aiihenhurst,  Colonel,  53 
As;hley,    Lord,    206,    210,   and    see 

Shaftesbury 
Aston,  Mr.,  231 
Aubigny,  Lord,  173  n.,  180,  297 


B 


it 


Bablon,"  iii,  120 
Bab  May.    ^«  May,  Bab. 
X 


Bagnall,  Mr.,  47  n. 
Bagshall,  Mr.,  10 1 
Baiilie,  Mr.,  30 
Balcarres,  Lord  anc 
Bampfylde,  Colonel 
Barbara  Villiers. 

Countess  of. 
Barillon,  186,  240, 
"  Barlow,  Mr.,"  96 
"Barlow,  Mrs.,"  31 
Baroness    Nonsuch. 

Baroness. 
Barrow,  Dr.,  164 
Bath,  Earl  of,  241, 
Beauclerc,  Lord,  28 
Beau  Fielding.     Se, 
Beaver,  Mr.,  283 
Bedloe,  228 
Bennet,  Henry,  Lor 
124,   126,  133,  15 
Arlington 
Berkeley,  Charles. 

Earl  of. 
Berkeley,  Lord,  158 
Berkshire,  Earl  of,  1 
Betterton,  actor,  14c 
Beverweert-Nassau, 
Bishop  Burnet.     See 
Blague,  Colonel  The 
Blandford,  Lord,  20' 
Booth,  Sir  James,  13 
Boude,  Mme.,  135 
"  Boye,"  Prince  Ruj 
Boyle,  Robert,  168, 
Bracegirdle,  Mrs.,  2, 
Bragelonne,  Mile,  de 
Brathwayte,  Mrs.,  7c 
Brenier,  Mile,  la,  27 
Brereton,  Mr.,  211 
Bristol,  Lord,  126,  I: 
Broadway,  Captain,  ' 
Broderick  (Sir  Allan 
Broghall,  Lord,  158- 
Broughton,  Major,  8; 


Lady,  128-9 
Charles,  25-6 
See  Castlemaine, 

247-8,  278 
102 

.  33.  281 

Sie   Nonsuch, 


248 
1-2 
'■  Fielding,  Beau. 


1  Arlington,  119, 
3,  and  see  Lord 

See  Falmouth, 


2-13,  18 

n. 

Mile,  de,  278 
Burnet, 
•nias,  51,  53 
:.  259 
2 

ert's  Dog,  154 

[70 

i6 

,  278 

7 
>4 

?),  177 
9 


3o6 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


INDEX 


307 


'( 


h 


I 


Brouncker,  Lord,   167  (President  of 

Royal  Society) 
Brown,  Major-General,  142 
Browne,  Sir  Richard,  113 
Browne,  Sir  Thomas,  169 
Bruce.    See  Ailesbury. 
Brudenel.     See  Shrewsbury. 
Buccleuch,  Countess  of,  230 
Buchan,  Lord,  43 
Buckhurst,  Lord.     See  Dorset,  Earl 

of. 
Buckingham,  Duchess  of,  188 
Buckingham,  Duke  of,  23,  35,  38,  40, 

43,  45,  46,  51,  53  n.,  69,  no,  141, 

143,  169,  203-4,  206,  216,  218  n., 

226,  252-5,  258,  262-4 
Buckley,  Mr.,  124 
Bulstrode,  Sir  Richard,  164 
Burford,  Earl  of,  281-2 
Burnet,  Gilbert,  23,  40,  149  n.,  152, 

190,  242-50  n.,  268. 
Byron,  Lord,  35--6 


Calow,  Wm.,  301 
Campden,  Lord,  141 
Capel,  Lord,  21 
Capel,  Sir  Henry,  239 
Cardenas,  Alonzo  de,  125 
Carlos,  Colonel  William,  60-7 
Carteret,  Lady  (?),  21 
Carteret,  Sir  George,  17,  260 
Cartwright,  Lady,  21 
"Carwell,"  Mme.,  219,  280-1.    See 
Portsmouth,  Duchess  of. 

Gary,  Lady,  4 
Case,  Mr.,  139 

Cassels,  Mrs.,  301 

Cassilis,  Lord,  40  n. 

Castlemaine,  Countess  of,  176  j^^., 
203-5,  208  n.,  212,  273-6,  298, 
and  see  Cleveland,  Duchess  of 

Catherine  of  Bragan^a.  See  Queen 
Katherine. 

Catten,  M.  de,  183 

Cham  of  Tartary,  263  n. 

Chappelles,  M.  de,  201 

Charlemagne,  117 

Charles  FitzCharles,  278 

Charles  Louis,  Elector  Palatine,  125 

Charles  I.     See  King  Charles  I. 

Charles  II.  See  King  Charles  II 
and  Prince  Charles. 

Chastillon,  Duchesse  de,  24,  in, 
116,  120 

Chastillon,  Marquis  de,  275 

Chesterfield,  Earl  of,  273,  276 


Chevalier,  M.,  19-20 
Chiffins,  Mr.,  243-5 
Christina  of  Sweden,  Queen,  38, 125 
Churchill,  John,  275 
Churchill,  Madam,  301 
Clarendon,    Earl   of,  14,    146,   165, 
178-80,  203  j^^.,  261,  271,  and  see 
Hyde,  Edward 
Clarendon,  Earl  of  (2nd),  214 
Clarges,  John,  157 
Clarges,  Dr.  Thomas,  138 
Cleveland,  69 
Cleveland,  Duchess  of,    241,  256-8, 

275,  and  see  Castlemaine 
CliflFord,  Lord,  206 
Coke,  Sir  E.,  156 
Colbert  de  Croissy,  208  n.,  279 
Coleman  the  secretary,  222,  227 
Colepeper.    See  Culpeper. 

CoUedge,  a  joiner,  236 

Comminges,  M.  de,  32,  119,  157-8, 
165,  182-5  n.,  2U 

Commissioners  of  Scotland,  29 

Compton,  Sir  S.,  124 

Coningsby,  Mrs.  Juliana,  86 

Cooke,  Captain,  257 

Corbett,  Major,  48 

Combury,  Viscount,  204 

Cosmo  iij,  Grand^Duke  of  Tuscany, 
167 

Cottington,  Lord,  31,  34 

Courtin,  M.,  277-8,  303 

Coventry,  Mrs.,  92 

Coventry,  Mr.  John,  93 

Coventry,  Sir  John,  159 

Coker,  Mr.,  283 

Craven,  Earl  of,  191,  244 

Creighton,  Dr.,  149 

Cress  well,  William,  53 

Crew,  Mr.,  139 

Crewe,  Bishop  of  Durham,  219 

Crofts,  Mr.,  121 

Crofts,  Mrs.,  239 

Cromarty,  Lord,  228 

Cromwell,  Oliver,   42,  44,  46,  123, 

125,  131 
Culpeper,  Lord,  18,  25,  132 


Danby,  Earl  of,  215,  225-8 

Darcy,  Duke,  51 

Dare,  Mr.,  235 

Dauncy,  John,  108  n.,  148-9 

Davies,  Moll,  278 

Denham,  Lady,  233  n. 

Derby,  Earl  of,  45»  5i»  53  «•»  '4^ 

Desborough,  General,  94 


Disraeli,  167 

*•  Don  Carlos,"  278 

Don  Juan,  128 

Dorchester,  Lord,  159-60 

Dorislaus,  28,  31 

Dorset,  Countess  of,  4 

Dorset,  Earl  of,  13 

Dorset,  Earl  of  (another),  256,  265-8, 
270,  280,  282 

Dowager  Princess  of  Orange,  131 

Downing,  131 

Dryden  John.    See  Literature. 

Dudhope,  Lord,  43 

Duke  of  Buckingham.  See  Buck- 
ingham. 

Duke  of  Gloucester.  See  Henry  of 
Oatlands. 

Duke  of  Newcastle.     See  Newcastle. 

Duke  of  Ormonde.    See  Ormonde. 

Duke  of  York.     .S"^^  James. 

Duncome,  Mr.,  20 

Dunfermline,  Earl  of,  41 

Dappa,  Brian,  4 

Duval,  Claude,  194 


Ejirl  of  Faversham,  etc.    See  Faver- 

sham,  etc. 
Eurle,  Dr.,  23,  107 
Eglesfield,  Mr.,  3 
Eglinton,  Earl  of,  41 
Elboeuf,  Due  d',  37 
Elector  of  Coin,  124,  125 
Elector  of  Mayence,  125 
Elector  Palatine.    See  Charles  Louis. 
Eliot,  Sir  Thomas,  259 
Elizabeth,  Princess,  25,  39 
Elizabeth,  Queen  of  Bohemia.     See 

pueen  Elizabeth. 
Elizabeth,  Queen  of  England.      See 

Queen  Elizabeth 
Ellesdon,  Captain  William,  86  j^^. 
Elliot,  Humphrey,  45 
Elliot,  Tom,  33,  n 8 
Emperor  of  Germany,  24,  128,  and 

^!ee  Ferdinand 
Essex,  Lord,  234-5,  238-9 
Estrades,  Comte  d',  275 
Etheredge,   Sir    George,    254,   265, 

270,  301-2 
Evelyn,  Mr.,  144  n.,  170,  193,  241, 

253,  and  Appendix 


Fairfax,  General  Lord,  25,  263 
Falmouth,  Earl  of,  190  n.,  275 
Fanshawe,  Lady  (Mrs.),  18-19,21,  no 
ranshawe,  Sir  Richard,  44,  126  n. 


Farr,  Mr.,  196 

Faversham.    ^J^f^  Fc  versham 

Feilding,  Colonel,  16 

Ferdinand  iij,  Emporor  of  Germany, 

Feversham,   Earl    cf,    191,   248  n., 

258 
Fielding,  Beau,  275 
Finch,  Lord  Keeper,  237 
Fisher,  Sir  Clement,  78 
"  Flatfoot  the  Gudgjon-takcr,"  188 
Forbus,  Sir  Alexander,  47 
Fox,  Sir  Stephen,  i  [9,  130 
Frampton,  Dr.,  164-5 
Eraser,  Dr.,  38 
Fuensaldanha,  125 


Gaius  the  host,  103  11. 

Gamache,  Pere  Cyjjiien,  78  n. 

Gascoigne,  Sir  Barnird,  188 

Gaston,  Due  d'Orles  ns,  24 

"Gentesau,"  137 

Gibbons,  Colonel,  142 

Gifferd,  Mr.  Charles,  51-2 

Giflfard,  Mrs.,  52 

Gilbert  Burnet.    See  Burnet. 

Gloucester,  Duke  of     See  Henry. 

Godfrey,  Sir  Edmuni  Berry,  222  and 

note,  228 
Godolphin,  ^fr.,  273 
Goodman,  an  actor,  275 
Gorges,  Dr.,  80 
Goring,  Lord,  16,  124 
Gough,  Dr.,  27 

Counter,  Captain  Tlomas,  96-7,  loo 
Gounter,  Colonel,  9,'i 
Grafton,  Duke  of,  250,  283 
Grahame,  James.     .Ssf  Montrose. 
Grahams,  Mr.,  284 
Gramont,  Comte  de.  21,    182,  258, 

301 

Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  165,  and 

see  Cosmo  iij 
Grandison,  Viscount,  46,  273 
Graves,  Mrs.  Mary,  ^.8 

Greatrakes    (Greatoiex),    Valentine, 

172  n. 
Green,  Sir  Edward,  ::78 
Grenville,  Sir  John,    6,  135,  138 
Griffin,  Mr.,  273 
Griffith,  John,  120 
Grime,  Sir  Richard,  [4 
Groujides,  Thomas,  301 
Guildford,  Lord  Keener,  162 
Guyse,  a  traitor,  46 
Gwyn(ne),    Nell,    i«o-i,    169,   251, 

256,  262  n.,  274,  280-5,  300-1 


3o8  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


INDEX 


H 


Habreu,  Senor,  257 

Halifax,   Lord,  225,   227-9,   234-5, 

240 
Hall,  Jacob,  275 
Hall,  Peter,  210 

Hamilton  (Engager  Scot),  29-30,  38 
Hamilton,  Colonel  James,  275 
Hamilton,  Duke  of,  47 
Hamilton,  Marquis  of,  3 
Hamnet,  88 
Hampden,  238 
Harding,  Richard,  41 
Haro,  Don  Luis  de,  133 
Harris,  Mr.,  282 
Hart,  Charles,  254,  275 
Harvey,  Dr.,  13 
Harvey,  Lady,  282 
Hatton,  Charles,  301 
Hatton,  Christopher,  172  n.,  244  n., 

301 
Hatton,  Lord,  253 
Haynes,  Colonel,  89 
Heenvliet,  Heer,  124 
Henchman,  Dr.  Humphrey,  93 
Henrietta  Anne,  sister  of  Charles  ij, 
22,  1 1 1-2,  134,  206  sqq.^  and  see 
Madame 
Henrietta  Maria,  Queen  of  England, 
I,  2,  15,  24,  27,  37,  120,  134,  176, 
207,  211 
Henrietta  of  Orange,  131 
Henri  Quatre,  45 
Henry  Bennett.    See  Arlington,  and 

Bennett. 
Henry  of  Oatlands,  Duke  of  Glou- 
cester, 25,  120-S,   134,    140-1  n., 
143,  216,  261-2 
Henslow,  Mr.,  100  n. 
Herbert,  Lady,  10 
Herbert,  Lord,  10 
Hereford,  Bishop  of,  172  n. 
Hereford,  Viscount,  162  n. 
Hertford,  Marquis  of,  1 1 
Higgons,  Mr.,  250 
Hinton,  Sir  John,  13 
Hobbes,  Mr.,  23 
Holbeard,  75 
Holland,  Lord,  23 
Hollis,  Lord,  190 
Hols,  Mr.,  246 
Hooka,  Mr.,  298 
Hooper,  Edward,  210 
Hopton,  Lord,  21,  25 
Home,  Mr.,  93 
Howard,  Mr.  Bernard,  259 
Howard  of  Escrick,  Lord,  238 


Howard,  Sir  Philip,  210 
Howard,  Robert,  243  and  note 
Howard,  Sir  Robert,  271 
Hubert,  191 

Huddleston,  Father,  74,  248-9 
Huddleston,  Mr.,  6^-^6  passim 
Hyde,  Anne,  Duchess  of  York.    See 

York 
Hyde,  Edward,   16,  18,  21,  29,  31, 

33-4,  m,  117,  121,  127-8,   132, 

I35»  i49~5o>  i57»  ^^^  '^'^*^  Clarendon 
Hyde,  Edward  (another),  92-3 
Hyde,  Frederick,  94-5 
Hyde,  Laurence  (afterwards  Earl  of 

Rochester),  153,  238,  240,  282 
Hyde,  Mrs.,  sqq.y  124 


309 


Imercelle,  Mile,  d',  127 
Inchiquin,  Lord,  207,  219 
Isabelle    Angelique,     Duchesse     dc 
Chastillon.     See  Chastillon. 


"Jackson,  Will,"  76-84 
Jaffray,  39 

James,  Duke  of  York,  li,  I3»  25-6, 
33,  35-6,   127,   140,   141  n-i   U3> 
190  n.,  215,  225,  232,  240,  244  J^^., 
256,  258-60,  281 
"Janton,"  135,  I37 
j  Jennings,  Criffin,  283 
j  Jennings,  Madam,  282 
i  Jermyn,  Henry,  129,  275 
Jermyn,  Lord,  21,  23,  32,  37,  110-3, 

116,  259,  and  see  St.  Albans 
Jermyn,  Tom,  80 
Jones,  Rice,  91 
Jones,  Will,  56,  76 


"  Keerwell,  Mme.,"  279 

Ken,  Bishop,  247 

Keroiialle,  Mile,  de,  263  n.,  278-80, 

and  see  Portsmouth 
Ketch,  Jack,  300  n. 
Kildare,  Lord,  283 
Killegrew,  204 
Killegrew,  Henry,  255,  273 
Killegrew,  Tom,  152-3,  254 
King,  Colonel,  81 
King,  Dr.,  243  n.-5 
King  Charles  i.,  13,  15»  27 


King  Charles  ij.,  proclaimed  in  Edin- 
burgh, 1649,  29 ;  leaves  Holland, 
June,  1649,  31 ;  goes  to  Brussels, 
June,  1649,  31 ;  goes  to  Com- 
pi^gne,  1649,  31  ;  goes  to  St.  Ger- 
mains,  1649,  32  ;  goes  to  Poissy, 
1649,  33;  Chevalier's  description 
of,  1649,  34  ;  goes  to  Caen,  Sept., 

1649,  34;    leaves  St.  Germains, 
12  Sept.,  1649,  34  ;  at  Coutances, 

16  Sept.,    1649,    34;    at   Cotain- 
ville,  17  Sept.,  1649,  34;  at  Jersey, 

17  Sept.,  1649,  34 ;  Winram's  de- 
scription of,  Dec,  1649,  35-6; 
leaves  Jersey,  13-23  Feb.,  1650, 
36  ;  at  Cotainville,  Feb.,  1650,  36  ; 
at  Coutances,  Feb.,  1650,  36; 
at  St.  Lo,  15  Feb.,  1650,  36;  at 
Caen,  16 i  Feb.,  1650,  36;  at 
Lisieux,  17  Feb.,  1650,  37  ;  at 
Bliosne,  18  Feb.,  1650,  37 ;  at 
Elbceuf,  19  Feb.,  1650,  37 ;  at  Trip- 
pneuve,  20  Feb.,  1650,  37 ;  at 
Beauvais,  21  Feb.,  1650,  37 ;  at 
Ghent,  23  March,  1650,  37 ;  at 
Breda,  26  March,  1650,  38;  em- 
barks  at   Harslaersdyck,  2   June, 

1650,  38 ;  signs  Treaty  of  Breda, 
1 1  June,  1650,  38 ;  swears  to 
Covenant,  23  June,  1650,  38 ;  off 
Heligoland,  June,  1650,  38 ;  lands 
at  Garmouth,  Scotland,  24  June 
(O.S.),  1650,  39  ;  at  St.  Andrews, 
July,  1650,  39;  at  Falkland,  16 
July,  1650,  39 ;  at  Perth,  23  July- 

2  Aug.,  1650,  40 ;  at  Dunfermline, 
18-26,  Aug.,  1650,  40  ;  at  Leith, 
in  camp,  Aug.,  1650,  41  ;  at  Dun- 
fermline, 18-26  Aug.,  1650,  41 ;  at 
Stirling,  Aug.,  1650,  41  ;  inter- 
view with  Dean  King,  Aug.,  1650, 
41-2  ;  at  Perth,  18-26  (?)  Aug., 
1650,  41  J  flight,  4-14  Oct.,  1650, 
43  ;  at  Clova,  4-14  Oct.,  1650, 43 ; 
at  Huntly  Castle,  4-14  Oct.,  1650, 
43  ;  at  Perth,  5-15  Oct.,  1650,  43  : 
crowned,  i  Jan.,  1651,  44 ;  marches 
on  England,  i  Aug.,  165 1,  44;  at 
Woodhouselee,  5  Aug.,  1651,  44 ; 
at  Worcester,  22  Aug.,  1651,  45 ; 
proclaimed  at  Worcester,  23  Aug., 
1651,45-6;  flight  from  Worcester, 

3  Sept.-i5  Oct.,  1651,49-108;  lands 
at  Fecamp,  15  Oct.,  1651,  107;  at 
Rouen,  16  Oct.,  1651,  107;  at 
Fleurie,  19  Oct.,  1651,  108  n. ; 
atMorieaux,  20 Feb.,  1651, 108  n. ; 
at  Paris,  20  Feb.,  1651,  108  n.  ; 
falls  ill,  Aug.,  1653,  lis  ;  recovers. 


Sept.,    1653,    115;    at    Chantilly, 
Oct.,  1653,   115;  at  Paris,  Dec, 

1653,  115  ;  leaves  Court,  29  May, 

1654,  116;  leaves  Paris,  10  July, 
1654,    116;  at  ^(erlou,   10  July, 
1654,   n6;  at  PtJronne,  li  July, 
1654,   116;  at  Cimbrai,  14  July, 
1634,  116;  at  Spa,  19  July,  1654, 
116  ;  leaves  Aachm,  8  Oct.,  1654, 
118;  at  Juliers,  8  Oct.,  1654,  118; 
at   Coin,    April,     1655,     1 18;    at 
Dusseldorf,  29  C'ct.,    1654,   118; 
leaves    Coin,    Feb.,    1655,     122; 
leaves  Middleburgh,    Feb.,  1655, 
122;    leaves   Cohi,    April,    1655, 
122  ;  and  his  bro  her  Henry  study 
Italian,   1655,    123;  at  Frankfort 
Fair,    Sept.-Oct.,    1655,    124-5; 
at  Coin,  Nov.,  i  $55,  125  ;  leaves 
Coin,   8   March,    1656,    125  ;     at 
Brussels,  March,  1656,  125-6 ;  at 
Vilvord,    March,    1656,    126 ;    at 
"Sun"  inn,  Loiivain,  11  March, 
1656,  126  ;  signs   reaty  with  Spain, 
12  April,  1656,    26;  at  Brussels, 
II  April,   1656,   [28;    at  Bruges, 
19  April,  1656,  1:6  ;  attends  meet- 
ings of  crossbowinen  and  archers, 
11-25  June,  165',   127;  at  Dun- 
kirk, Oct.,  1657,   128  ;  at  Bruges, 
Oct.  and  Dec,  1^57,  128  ;  at  Ant- 
werp, Feb.,  165};,  128  ;   at  Brus- 
sels, 7  Feb.,  l6f8,  126;  at  Brus- 
sels, March,   165  5,   130;   tours  in 
United  Provinces,   1658,   131  ;  at 
Zevenbergen,  June,  1658,  131 ;  at 
Hoogstraaten,   -Aug.,    1658,    131  ; 
at   Hague,    1658     131  ;    proposes 
for  Henrietta  of  C  range,  1658,  131; 
leaves  Brussels,  ;{-i3  Aug.,  1659, 
132;  at  Hazebroack,  Aug.,  1659, 

132  ;  at  Trevuren;  Aug.,  1659,  132  ; 
at  Calais,  Aug.  1659,  132 ;  at 
Boulogne,  Aug.,  1659,  132;  at 
St.  Malo,  Aug.  1659,  132 ;  at 
Rouen,  Aug.,  1659,  132;  goes  to 
Spain,  Sept.,  i6',9,  132-3 ;  at  La 
Rochelle,  22  S;pt.,  1659,  133; 
at  Toulouse,  30  Sept.,  1659,  133; 
his  opinion  of  travelling  in  Spain, 
1659, 133  ;  atZaiagoza,  Oct.,  1659, 
133 ;  at  Fuentaral)ia,  28  Oct.,  1659, 

133  ;  at  Bayonne  Oct.,  1659,  134  ; 
at  Hendaye,  28  Oct.,  1659,  134; 
at  Colombes,  l^fov.-Dec,  1659, 
134,  207 ;  at  B  ussels,  26  Dec, 
1659,  134;  leaves  Brussels,  21-31 
Mar.,  1659,  136 ;  at  Breda,  21-31 
Mar.,   1660,    136  ;    proclaimed  in 


11 « 


3IO 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS  COURT 


INDEX 


^t( 


I.  i 


London,  8-l8  May,  1660,  136  ;  at 
Hague,  14-24  May,  1660,  136-7  ; 
receives  English  Lords,  etc.,  16-26 
May,    1660,    137-8;    boards    the 
Naseby,  May,  1660, 139 ;  at  Dover, 
May,   1660,   140;   at   Canterbury, 
May,  1660,  141-2;   at  Rochester, 
May,  1660,   142;   at  Blackheath, 
May,    1660,    142 ;    at    Deptford, 
May,   1660,  142;  at  St.   George's 
Fields,    Southwark,     May,    1660, 
142;    at    Whitehall,    May,    1660, 
142 ;  Juke's  description  of,  1660, 
148-9,    154;    at   Portsmouth,    20 
May,   1662,   174;    impressions    of 
his  wife,  May,  1662,   174  sqq.  ;  at 
Poole,  Sept.,  1663,  210;  grief  at 
his  sister's  death,  1670,  212  ;  hawks 
in    Buckinghamshire,    1678,   214 ; 
at  Newmarket,  1680,  226 ;  at  Bur- 
ford,  17  Mar.,  1681,  226;  falls  ill, 
Aug.,    1679,    232-3  n.;  falls  ill, 
May,   1680,    234-5  ;    last    illness, 
Jan.,  1685,  241-51  ;  receives  last 
rites,    Feb.,  1685,    249  n.  ;    death 
and  burial,  Feb.,  1685,  251  ;  gives 
Exeter  his  sister's  portrait,  17  ;  and 
his  mother,  33  ;  his  account  of  flight 
from     Worcester,     49-108 ;     his 
studies,  1654,  118  ;  plays  cribbage, 
Mar.,     1656,    126;    compared    to 
David,  1660,  147  ;  his  appearance, 
1660,  147-8;   as   linguist,  I49n.; 
and  literature,  151-2  ;  his  promises, 
161-2 ;  his  finances  and  schemes, 
1660,   etc.,    163-4;    his    religion, 
164-5  5   ^is  interest  in  astronomy, 
170 ;  his  menagerie  in  St.  James' 
Park,    170;    his  laboratory,    170; 
Burnet  on,  166,  177  ;  fishing,  188  ; 
his  interest  in  the  Navy,  etc.,  209- 
II ;  his  love  of  music,  211  ;    his 
love  of  hawking,  214;  his  French 
Catholic  Plot,  215  ;  in  House  of 
Lords,   225-6;    and  Popish  plot, 
227-9 ;   his  bankers'  debts,   240 ; 
at  theatre,  256 ;  at  tennis,  257  ;  at 
Pall  Mall,  148,  253,  Appx.  ;  his 
character,  285-7. 
King    Charles    ij.   Letters  of.      To 
Bennet:  22   Dec,   1654,  119-20; 
25   May,    8  June,    5    July,    17-8 
Aug.,   14  Sept.,    18  Oct.,    1655, 
123-4;   July,    II   Aug.,    I    Sept.. 
1656,    126-7  ;    July,    1657,    128. 
About    Castlemaine,    June,    1662, 
177-8;    to    Clarendon,    8    Sept., 
1663,    185-6;   to    Cleveland,   de- 
scription of,  276  ;  to  Committee  of 


Estates,  165 1,  42  ;  Council  Notes, 

[pp.]  1490.,  158  J^^.,  162  n.,  172-3, 

2C»,  212-3 ;  to  Countess  of  Lich- 

field,   20  Oct.,   16—,   276-7;   to 

Due    d'Elboeuf,  July,    1670,  212; 

to  Elizabeth  of  Bohemia,  6  Aug., 

1654,  116.     To  Henrietta  Anne, 

his  sister:   7   Feb.,  1660,  134-5; 

May,  1660,  137  ;  26  May,  1660, 

141-2 ;  20  Dec,  1660,  208 ;  23 

Dec,  1 66 1,  209  ;  26  May,  1662, 

176  ;  9  Feb.,  1663,  180  ;  28  Mar., 

1663,  201  ;  20  April,  1663,  181, 

230;  9  Sept.,  1663,  210;  2  Nov., 

1663,  183;    10  Dec.  1663,   162, 
181  ;  18  Jan.,  1664,  181  ;  19  May, 

1664,  183-4;  26  Dec,  1664,  170; 
8  June,  1665,  190  ;  14  Jan.,  1668, 
230-1  ;   23,    30  Jan.,  1668,   231 ; 
5  Mar.,  1668,  204-5  ;  7'  24  May, 
1668,   231  ;  22   Mar.,   1669,  211  ; 
(date     unknown),     169-70.      To 
Henry  of  Gloucester,  1654,  121-2 ; 
to  Hyde,  Oct.,  1659,  133  ;  to  James 
of  York,  Mar.,  1679,  232  ;  to  Jane 
Lane,     June,     1652,     85  n.  ;     to 
Lauderdale,  12  April,   1660,  136; 
to  Middleton,   22  Mar.,    1 660-1, 
160-1  ;  to  Monk,  17-27  May,  1660, 
138;  to  Ormonde,  19  Mar.,  1656, 
126,  205  ;  to  Prince  Rupert,  1651, 
205  ;    to     Princess     of    Orange, 
1657,  129  ;  about  Sir  Henry  Vane, 
7  June,  1662,  161 

King  of  France,  3.      See  Louis  xiij 

and  xjv. 
Kirkby,  227-8 
Kirton,  Mr.,  84 
Knight,  Mrs.,  187,  282,  301 
Knipp,  Mrs.,  256 


Lainey,  M.,  283 

Lambert,  General,  46 

Lambert,  Mr.,  302 

Lane,  Colonel,  72,  78 

Lane,  Mr.,  83 

Lane,  Mrs.,  76 

Lane,  Mrs.  Jane,  76  sqq.^  124 

Lanerick,  Lord,  47 

Langhome,  Mr.,  224 

Lanier,  Nicholas,  130 

Lansdowne,  Lord,  242  n.** 

Lassels,  Mr.  Henry,  76,  83-4 

Laud,  Bishop,  2 

Lauderdale,  Lord  (afterwards  Duke 
oO,  26,  29,  38,  51,  165,  170,  206, 
219,  264 


Lc^ge,  Colonel,  174 

Leggt,  Will,  239 

Lennox,  Duke  of,  3 

L(;nthaU,  Squire,  214 

Leslie,  Major-General  David,  42,  45, 

L'Estrange,  Roger,  151 

Lichfield,  Charlotte,  Countess  of,  276 

Lilly,  2,  172 

Limboy,  Stephen,  86  sqq. 

Lindsey,  Earl  of,  143 

Lionne,  M.  de,  119,  303 

Livingstone,  39,  40  n. 

Lloyd,  David,  151  n. 

Lloyd,  Dr.,  222 

Locke,  John,  168 

Long,  — ,  29 

Lorraine,  Duchess  of,  129 

*'Lorrie,"  96 

Louis  XHI,  24 

Louis  XIV,  24,  112,  169,  172,  186, 

198,  206,  262,  286 
Lovell,  Mr.,  121 
Ludlow,  Major-General,  141  n.-l43  n. 

Lumley,  Lord,  100 
Lumley,  Mr.,  283 
Luttrell,  Narcissus,  246  n. 
Lyttelton,  Sir  Charles,  172  n.,  187, 
243  n.-6 


M 


Macey,  Captain,  91 
Macpherson,  248-9 
"Madame,"  Duchess  of  Orleans,  l8l, 
187,  206  sqq,^  212,  233  n.,  and  see 
Henrietta  Anne 
Malet,  Elizabeth.     See  Rochester. 
Manchester,  Earl  of,  188 
Mancini,    Hortensia,    134,    and    see 

Mazarin,  Duchess 
Mansel,  Mr.  Francis,  97,  102 
Manwaring,  Mr.  George,  63 
Marchin,  Comte  de,  129 
Martin,  Bartholomew,  52 
Martin,  Edward,  53 
Mary  of  Modena,  Duchess  of  York, 

224,  273,  277 
Mary  of  Orange,  Princess  Royal  of 
England,  117-8,  124-5,  128,  130, 
140,  200 
Mary  of  York,  afterwards  Princess  of 
Orange  and    Queen  of  England, 
215-6 
Mason,  137 

Massey,  Major-General,  46 
Massonnet,  Peter,  10 


Matthews,  Mr.,  13 
Maurice,  Prince  Pals 
May,  Bab,  205,  253- 
Mayence,  Elector  of, 
Maynard,  Thomas,  i 
Mayor  of  Dover,  14c 
Mazarin,  Cardinal,  2 
Mazarin,  Duchesse, 

303 
Middleton,  Earl  of, 

Mohun  (actor),  254 

Mohun,  Major,  129 

Monk,  General,   13: 

I43»  156-8,  225,  2 
Monk,  Mrs.,  138,  I' 
"Monkey  Duchess,' 
Monmouth,  Duches: 
Monmouth,  Duke  c 

225-6,  230-9,  258 
Montagu,  139 
Montagu,  Admiral, 
Montagu,  Mr.,  121 
Montagu,  Ralph,  2; 
Montelion,  172 
Montgomery,  46 
Montpensier,  Mile. 
Montrose,   Marquis 

38-9 
Moore,  Lady,  130 

Moray,  Sir  Robert, 

Mordaunt,  Lady,  2 

Morice,  141,  156,  ] 

Mor(e)land,  Sir  Sa 

Morley,  Captain,  i 

Morosini,  109 

Motteville,  Mme.  c 

Mulgrave,  Earl  of, 

Murray,  Anne,  25- 

Murray,  Charles,  2 


311 


tine,  125 

7 

125 
73-4 

5.  I33»  277 
241,  276-8,  281, 

117,  160-1 


:,  135-6,   140-I, 
61 

7 

157 
;  of,  216,  258 

f,  131,  169,  191, 

,  273,  281 

141 

'5 


ie,  24,  31-2,  no 
iof,    29-30,   36, 


170 
56 

59.  205 
nuel,  145,  196 

00 

e,  2,  23-4 
268 

6,  40-1 
2 


>r 


Napier,  29 
Neale,  Sir  P.,  170 
Newburgh,  Lord, 
Newcastle,  Earl  o: 
quis  and  Duke), 
162  n.,  165,  271 
Newcastle,  Lady  (; 

of),  129,  272 
Newdegate,  Serjei 
Newdegate,  Sir  R 
Newton,  Sir  Isaac 
Nicholas,  Sir  Edv 
Nonsuch,  Barones 

maine. 
Norfolk,  Duchess 
North,  Roger,  19 


125 
(afterwards  Mar- 
4-10,  129,  154-6, 

ifterwards  Duchess 

nt,  303 
ichard,  233  n. 
168 
ard,  117,  157 
3,  275.    See  Castle- 

of,  283 
1-3 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


312 

Northumberland,  Duke  of,  250 
Norton,  Mr.  George,  76  sqq. 
Norton,  Mrs.,  80,  83 
Norwich,  Earl  of.     See  Goning. 
Nostradamus,  172 


O 


Gates,  Titus,  14811.,  217,  226,  228 

O'Neil,  Mr.,  124 

«  Orange  Moll,"  254 

Orange,  Prince  of.    See  William. 

Orin,  Lady,  282 

Orleans,  Duchess  of,  206  sqq.,  and  see 

Henrietta  Anne  and  Madame 
Ormonde,  Lady  (afterwards  Duchess 

Ormonde,  Marquis  of  (afterwards 
Duke  of),  35-6,  38,  42,68  n.,  114, 
117,  120-4,  130,  157.  222  n.,  271 

Orrery,  Lord,  271 

Osborne,  Sir  Thomas,  215,  and  see 
Danby 

Oxford,  Earl  of,  I4if  i57 


INDEX 


313 


Palin,  Thomas,  72 

Palmer,  Barbara.     See  Castlemaine 
and  Cleveland,  and  145,  1 77  m-t 

274 
Palmer,  Roger  (afterwards  Earl   of 

Castlemaine),  140  n.,  178  n.,  274, 

276 
Palsgrave,  3 
Parker,  Mr.,  107 
Pasqua  Rosee,  300 
Peg,  Catherine,  278 
Pelling,  Mr.,  299 
Pembroke,  Lord,  166,  219 
Penderel,  George,  52-3 
Penderel,  Humphrey,  53 
Penderel,  Joan,  63  n.,  65 
Penderel,  Richard,  and  the  rest,  53- 

75  passim 
Penderel,  William,  4S,  52-3»  ^^  n., 

99 
Penn,  William,  165 

Pepys,  Samuel,  49, 135,  i38-9>  148  n., 
154,  157,  165,  181  n.,  190-1,  213, 
297-8 

Percy,  Lord,  23 

Peterborough,  Lady,  256 

Peters,  Hugh,  86  sqq. 

Petre,  Mr.  John,  76,  78 

Phelips,  Colonel  Robert,  93  sqq. 

Philippe,  Due  d'Orleans,  206-7 


Philip  William,  Count  Palatim  of 

Newburgh,  118 
Pierce,  Mr.,  246,  298 
*'Pitchcroft,  Mr.,"  61  n. 
Plunket,  Archbishop,  160,  227 
Pomponne,  M.  de.    See  Coiirtin. 

Pope,  80 

Portsmouth,   Duchess  of,   186,  228, 
235,  240-1,  263  n.,  274,  278-81, 
and  see  Keroiialle 
Portsmouth,  Lord,  219 
Potter,  Mr.,  90 
Potvin,  Mr.,  283 
Pregnani,  Abbe,  169-  70 
Preston,  Sir  John,  72 
Prideaux,  Bishop,  219 
Prince  Charles,  bom  29  May,  1630, 
2  ;  made  Earl  of  Chester,  1630,  2  ; 
made  Knight  of  the  Garter,  1630, 
2  ;  an  ugly  baby,  1630,  i ;  christen- 
ing,   1630,    2-3;     fondness    for 
wooden  billet,  4;   a  good  horse- 
man, 4 ;  letter  to  Lord  Newcastle, 
10 ;  carries  letter  to  the  Lords,  li ; 
goes  to  Greenwich,  Feb.,  1642,  ii  I 
takes  Hon.   M.A.  of  Oxford  and 
Cambridge,    1642,    ii;    letter    to 
Mary  of  Orange,  9  March,  1642, 
12  ;   Captain  of  Prince  of  Wales 
Own,  May,  1642,  12 ;  at  Notting- 
ham, 1642,  13 ;  at  Edgehill,  Oct., 
1642,  13  ;  at  Reading,  Oct.,  1642, 
14;    at   Oxford,    1642-4,    14;    at 
Burford,    17  June,    1644,    15 ;  at 
Buckingham,  23  June,  1644,   15; 
at  Cropredy  Bridge,  27  June,  1644, 
15;    at   Newbury,  27  Oct.,   1644, 
15;  at  Oxford,  27  Nov.,  1644,  15, 
16;  at  Deanery,  Exeter,  1644,  17; 
made    Duke    of     Cornwall,    etc., 
1644,  16  ;  leaves  Oxford,  16  ;  goes 
into  the  West,  March,   1645,  16; 
at  Bristol,  30  April,  1645,  17 ;  at 
Bridgewater,  I  June,  1645,  17  5  at 
Mr.    Potter's,   Exeter,    1645,    17; 
visits  his  sister  in  Exeter,    1645, 
17  ;  at  Wells,  June,  1645,  17  ;  at 
Barnstaple,  25  June,  1645,  17;  at 
Liscard,  21  July,   24  Oct.,  1645, 
17;   at  Launceston,  28  July  and 
16   Sept.,    1645,    17;    at    Exeter, 
29  Aug.,    16455    17;    at    Truro, 
21  Nov.,  1645,  17;  tries  to  relieve 
Exeter,   26   Dec,    1645*   ^7 ;   j^st 
about  Bodmin,  17  n. ;  at  Launces- 
ton,   Jan.,    1646,    18;    at  Truro, 
12  Feb.,   1646,   18 ;  at  Pendennis 
Castle,    17    Feb.,    1646,    18;   at 
ScUly  Isles,  2   March,  1646,  18; 


leaves  St.  Mary's,  16  April,  1646, 
19;  in  Jersey,  17  April,  1646,  19; 
has  boat  built,   June,    1646,    19; 
popular    in    Jersey,     1646,    19; 
table-service  in  Jersey,  1646,  20 ; 
goes  to  France,  24  June,  1646,  22 ; 
at  Cotainville,  24  June,  1646,  22  ; 
at  Paris,   1646,   22;   at  St.   Ger- 
mains,  1646, 22  ;  at  Fontainebleau, 
1646,    22 ;    at    Charenton,    1646, 
23;    courtship   of  Mile.,   1646-7, 
24  ;  wishes  to  join  French  army, 
1646-7,    24-5 ;    leaves    St.    Ger- 
mains,  25  June,  1648,  25  ;  goes  to 
Helvoetsluys,   9    July,    1648,    25 ; 
goes  to  Yarmouth,  9  July,  1648, 
26;     accepts    Engagers'     Terms, 
16    Aug.,    1648,    26 ;    stands    to 
Parliament  Fleet,  29  Aug.,  1648, 

26  ;  at  Goree,  3  Sept.,  1648,  26 ; 
brave  behaviour  of,  27  ;  at  Breda, 

27  ;  has  smallpox,  27  ;  appeals  to 
the  States  for  his  father,  27  ;  ap- 
peals to  Louis  XIV  and  Mazarin, 
27  ;  at  Richmond,  80 

«« Prince  Perkin,"  281 
Progers,  Edward,  36 
Purcell,  Mr.,  269 


Queen  Elizabeth  of  Bohemia,  138 
Queen  Elizabeth  of  England,  224 
Queen  Katherine    of   England,   33, 

173-188  passim^   203,   226,    245, 

256  sqq. 
Queen-Mother  of  England,  208,  and 

see  Henrietta  Maria 
Queen-Mother  of  France,  3 


R 


Radford,  Thomas,  157 

Rands,  Mr.  Theodore,  2IO 

"R.C.,"  117 

Rane,  Lord,  234 

Renenbourg,  Mme.,  127 

Reresby,   Sir  John,   174,  207,   228, 

251,  262 
Retz,  Gilles  de,  27  and  note 

Reymes,  Colonel  BuUen,  91-2 

Reynolds,  Dr.,  144 

Reynolds,  Mr.  Francis,  72,  75 

Rhodes,  Mr.,  38 

Richmond,  Duchess  of,  3,  188 

Richmond,  Duke  of,  203,  250,  279 

Rider,  Matthew,  80 

X  2 


Riley,  Mr.,  15 1 

Roche-Guilhem,  Mile,  de  la,  278 
Rochester,  Countess  of,  267-8 
Rochester,  Earl  of,  (John  WUmot), 
50,  117,  126,  166,   169,  188,   254, 
264-70,  282 
Rochester,  Earl  of  ( Laurence  Hyde). 

See  Hyde,  Lauren  :e. 
Rohan,  Prince  de,  263  n.,  281 
Roper,  Mr.,  188 

Roscarrock,  Colonel,  51-2 

Roscommon,  Earl  of,  27 1 

Ross,  Mr.  Thomas,  131,231 

"  Roxellana,"  256 

"  Royal  Charles,"  117 

Rumbold,  238 

Rumsey,  238 

Rupert,    Prince   Palatine,  16,  24-5, 
112,  115,  125,  i;;4,  257-9,  271-2 

Russell,  Lord,  238- -9 

Russian  Ambassadcr,  253 

Ruvigny,  M.  de,  llJS 


S 


St.  Albans,  Duke  c  f,  250 

St.   Albans,  Earl  of,  176,  180,  257, 

and  see  Jermyn 
St.  Evremond,  275-8,  295 
Salisbury,  Bishop  cf,  266 
Sambourne   (Sand>ume),   Mr.,  107, 

109 
Saii(d)croft,  Archbishop,  246-7 
Sandwich,  Lord,  140,  275 
Sanes,  Lady,  301 
Savile,  Mr.,  282 
Scrope,  Sir  Carr,  282 
Sedley,  Catherine  270 
Sedley,    Sir    Charles,    253-5,    264, 

269-70 
Seymour,  Henry,  ^3        ,,     ^    ^ 
Seymour,  Willian: .    Su  Hertford. 
Shaftesbury,  Cour  tess  of,  224 
Shaftesbury,  Earl  of,  148  n.,  i5o-7» 
167,  169,  206,    510,  217,  222  sqq.y 
229,  236-40  n.,  and  see  Ashley 
Sharpe,  jfames,  138 
Shaw,  Mr.,  149  n. 
Shepherd,  Sir  Fleetwood,  270 
Shipton,  Mother,  172 

Shore,  Jane,  274 

Short,  Dr.,  233  c.    ^,    .     „     ,      , 

Shrewsbury,  Amia  Mana  Brudenel, 
Countess  of,  2<»3 

Sidney,  Algernor,  238-9 

Sidney,  Colonel  Robert,  230 

Sidney,  Henry,  ::33 

Silvius,  116 


'f  1 


( 


mmm»immmtm?»l$llltttlgk 


(• 


314  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS  COURT 


Sinclair,  29 

Sinclair,  Sir  Thomas,  295-7 

Smith  the  Host,  loi 

Sneyd,  Richard,  45 

Southall,  74 

Southampton,  Countess  of,  275 

Southampton,  Duke  of,  250 

Southampton,  Lord,  100 

Sophia,  Princess  Palatine,  30-1 

Sorbiere,  M.  de,  167 

Stafford,  Lord,  160,  227 

Stanhope,  Lady,  124 

Stanton  of  Hatton,  67 

Stapleton,  Sir  Miles,  145 

Staunton,  Mr.  William,  65-66  n. 

Stayner,  139 

Stewart,    Miss    Francis    (afterwards 

Duchess  of  Richmond),   183,   189, 

203,  254,  262,  275 
Stillingfleet,  Dr.,  164 
Stowell,  Sir  John,  144 
Strafford,  Earl  of,  1 1 
Strangways,  Giles,  85  sqq. 
Strutts,  William,  210 
Sunderland,  Dowager  Lady,  233  n. 
Sunderland,  Earl  of,  234-5 
Sussex,  Countess  of,  276-7 
Swan,  Robert,  78,  96 
Symons,  Mr.  Thomas,  98-100 


Taafe  (Taff),  Lord,  116-7,  120,  127 

Talbot,  Lord,  51 

Tara(gh),  Viscount,  126 

Taylor,  Mr.,  116 

Temple,  Sir  William,  206,  229 

Teonge,  222 

Tettershall,  Captain,  loi  sqq. 

Thurloe,  127 

Thynne,  Lady  Isabella,  37 

Titus  Gates,  221  sqq.    See  Gates. 

Titus,  Silas,  35 

Tombs  (Tomes),  Mr.  John,  78  n. 

Trant,  Mr.,  282 

Trevannion,  Captain,  248  n. 

Tuam,  Dean  of,  44 


V 


Vane,  Sir  Henry,  161 
Van  Tromp,  27 
Vaughan,  Lady,  273 


Vic,  Sir  Henry  de,  126,  258 
Villiers,   Barbara.      See   Casdemaine 

and  Cleveland  and  Barbara  Villiers 
Villiers,    George.     See  Buckingham' 

Duke  of.  * 

Vivonne,  M.,  112 


W 


Wade,  Margaret,  %6^  88-9 
Wakeman,  Sir  George,  226-7 
Walker,  Richard,  51 
Waller,      Edmund,     295,     and    see 

Literature 
Walters,   Lucy,   33     131,  230,  234, 

and  see  Barlow,  Mrs. 
Warwick,  Earl  of,  26 
Wentworth,  Lord,  96,  117 
Wheeler,  17  n. 

Whitgreave,  Mr.,  63-4,  ^l-'jd passim 
Wilham  of  Orange,  brother-in-law  of 

Charles  ij,  27,  31,  140 
William  of  Orange,  nephew  of  Charles 

ij»  215-7,  270 
Williams,  Lady,  282-3 
Wilmot,    George.      See    Rochester, 

Earl  of. 
Wilmot,  Lord,  38,  43,  50  sqq.^  60,  67, 

69,  117,  265 
Winchilsea,  Earl  of,  140 
Winram,  Sir  George,  35-6 
Wise,  Michael,  235 
Wolfe,  Mr.  Francis,  57-60 
Wolfe,  Mrs.,  60 
Wood,  James,  138 
Woolley,  Bishop,  166 
Worcester,  Lady,  284 
Wren,  Sir  Christopher,  241 
Wyndham,  Colonel,  34 
Wyndham,  Colonel  Frank,  84  sqq, 
Wyndham,  Lady,  85,  92 
Wyndham,  Mrs.,  16-17,  23,  34-5 
Wyndham,  Sir  Hugh,  91 


Yates,  51-2 
Yates,  Francis,  55-7 
York,   Duchess  of,   256-8,   and    see 
Hyde,  Aime,  and  Mary  of  Modena. 
York,  Duke  of.     See  James. 
Young,  Madam,  301 


INDEX 


315 


PLACES 


Aachen,  11 7-8 
Abbots  Leigh,  79 
Aberdeen,  39  n. 
Abc-la-Chapelle,  1 17 
*'  AUports  Leasow,"  69 
"  Angel,"  Islington,  194 
Antwerp,  113,  128 
Arras,  119 
Arundel  Hill,  loo 
Astracan,  253 
Audley  End,  169,  188 
Aylesbury,  146,  267 

B 


Balliol  College,  Oxford,  236 
Barbourne  Bridge,  Worcester,  48 
Barham  Down,  141 
Barnhall,  51 
Barnstaple,  17 
Bath,  184-5  and  note 
Bayonne,  134 

•'Bear,"  Southampton  Gate,  Salis- 
bury, 93 
Bearby,  77 
Bearsley,  78  n. 
Beauvais,  37 
Beeding,  loi 
Bentley,  67,  72-3,  76-7 
Berkshire,  235 
Berwick,  Dorsetshire,  87  n. 
Birmingham,  79  n. 
Blackheath,  142 
Blakeshall,  51 
Bliosne,  37 
Bodmin,  17 
Bog  o'  Gicht,  39 
Bombay,  188 
Bonn,  124 
Boscobel,  51-2 
Boscobel  House,  44 
Boscobel  Wood,  61 
Bothwell  Brig,  231 
Boulogne,  132 
Bramber,  100 
Breda,  27,  38,  136,  138 
Brentford,  38 
Brewood,  51,  66 
Bridgenorth,  57 
Bridgewater,  16,  17 
Bridport,  87  n.,  89  sqq. 
Brigg  of  Erne,  43 
Brighthelmstone,  97 


1  Brighthempson,  97 
Brighthemston,  ici 
Brighton,  loi  sqq. 
Bristol,  17,  79,  83 
Broadhalfpenny,  c^ 
Broad  waters,  51 
Broadwindsor,  91 
Brownsea,  Dorset,  210 
Brumingham,  79  1. 
Bruges,  126,  128 
Brussels,  31,  125-6,  128,  130,    13a, 

134,  136 
Buckingham,  15,  214 

Bunshill,  46 

Burchant,  100  n. 

Burford,  15,  214 

Burford  House,  i;82 

Burhunt,  100  n. 


Caen,  34,  36 

Caesar's  Bath,  A;ichen,  118 
Calais,  132 
Cambrai,  116 
Cambridge,  n 
Campsfield,  214 
Canterbury,  138,  141-2 
Carlton,  145  n. 
Castle  Gary,  84 
Chaillot,  135 
Chancery  Lane  End,  223 
Chantilly,  112,  115 
Charenton,  23 
Charleton  Horethorne,  93 
Charmouth,  86  sqq. 
Chatham,  119,  zii 
Chelsea,  96 
Chester  Lane,  i;i 
Chichester,  97 
Chipping  Cam])den,  79 

Chipping  Sodbary,  79 

Christ  Church,  Oxford,  236 

Christ's  Hospital  School,  171 

Cirencester,  79 

Clarendon  Parle  Corner,  97 

Claydon,  145 

Clova,  43 

"  Cock,"  Bow  Street,  271 

Colchester,  26 

Coin,  T.18,  125,  125 

Colombes,  134,  207 

Compi^gne,  31 

Connans,  276 

Constitution  t  ill,  228 


I, 


/ 


N/J 


31^ 


CHARLES    II   AND   HIS   COURT 


Convent  of  S.  Dominique,  33 
Corbisdale,  38 
Cornbury,  185 
Cornbury  Park,  214 
Cornmarket,  Worcester,  48 
Cotainville,  22,  34,  36 
Cotsal,  53 
Coutances,  34,  36 
Cranbourne,  260 
Cropredy  Bridge,  15 
Crosby,  46 

"  Crown,"  Cirencester,  79 
Cupar,  39 


D 

Delaware,  189 
Deptford,  142 
Dieppe,  105 
Ditchley  Park,  276 
Dorchester,  91 
Dover,  138,  140 
Drury  Lane,  281 
Dunbar,  42 
Dundee,  43 
Dunfermline,  38,  40-1 
Dunkirk,  128,  189,  203 
Diisseldorf,  118 


Eagle  Insurance  Office,  281 

Edgehill,  13 

Edinburgh,  29 

Elboeuf,  37 

Elif,  216 

Elizabeth  Castle,  Jersey,  22 

Elm  Court,  Temple,  192 

Elsdon's  Farm,  87 

Emsworth,  97 

Epsom,  271,  280 

Erith,  216 

Euston,  259,  279 

Evelith  Mill,  57 

Exeter,  17,  206 


Falkland,  39 
Fecamp,  107 
Fleetbridge,  222  n. 
Fleet  Street,  193 
Flcurie,  108,  n. 
Fontainebleau,  22,  184 
Font  Arabie,  133 
Fore  gate,  Worcester,  48 


Fofseway,  79  n. 

France,  206 

Frankfort,  124-5 

Friars  Street,  Worcester,  47-8 

Fuentarabia,  133 


Garmouth,  39 

Gatakar  Park,  45 

Geometry  School,  Oxford,  237 

*•  George,"  Bridport,  89  j^^. 

"George,"  Brighthelmston,  loi 

"George,"  Broadwindsor,  91-2 

"  George,"  Mere,  93-4 

Ghent,  37 

Goree,  26 

Gravesend,  216 

Green  Hill,  51 

"Green  Mare,"  Newmarket,  265 

Greenwich,  11 

Greenwich  Observatory,  171 

Gresham  College,  170 

Guernsey  Castle,  17,  90 

*♦  Gun,"  Moorfields,  198 


n 

Hague,  28,  131,  138-9 
Hanbledon,  98 
Hanpton  Court,  175-6 
Harslaersdyck,  38 
Hartlebury,  51 
Haiebrouck,  132 
Heale,  93  sqq. 
Heligoland,  38 
Helvoetsluys,  25 
Hendaye,  134 
Hereford,  280 
Hinriley,  51 
Hobbal  Grange,  52 
Hoddesden,  239 
Hogsden,  198 
Holland,  31,  206 
Hoogstraaten,  131 
Houghton,  ICO 
Huntly  Castle,  43 
Hyde  Park,  228,  256,  258 


Inkberrow,  77 
Irehind,  35 
Islington,  198 


INDEX 


317 


J 


Jermyn  Street,  282 
Jersey,  19  sqq,^  36,  90,  lio 
Juliers,  1 18 


K 


Kent,  132 

"King's  Arms,"  Salisbury,  93 

"  King's  Head,"  Temple  Bar,  223 

"King's  Head,"  Poultry,  144 

King's  Lane,  78  n. 

King's  Theatre,  255 

JCing  Street,  Westminster,  274 

Konigstein,  125 


I,amb*s  Conduit,  198 

Lambeth  Castle,  87  n. 

Lancashire  and  Cheshire,  132 

La  Rochelle,  133 

Launceston,  17-8 

Lawford's  Gate,  Bristol,  79 

Lee  Castle  Park,  51 

Lee  Road,  26 

"Leg,"  King  Street,   Westminster, 

196 
Leigh,  Bristol,  76  sqq, 
Leith,  41 

Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  281 
Lisbon,  173 
Liscard,  17 
Lisieux,  37 
London,  60,  194  sqq, 
London  Bridge,  197 
Long  Marston,  78 
Long  Walk,  69 
Louvain,  126 
Lyme  Regis,  ^ 


Madeley,  57-60,  71 
Madrid,  28 
Marston  Moor,  1 54 
Med  way,  189 
Mere,  93-94 
Merton,  116 
Middelburgh,  26,  122 
Monckton  Wyld,  87 
"Moor  Close,"  69 
Moorfields,  172 
Morieaux,  108  n. 


Moseley  61,  67,  69-76 
Mulberry  Garden,    45,  198 


Netherbury,  91 

Newbury,  15 

New  Exchange,  i9;'-8 

New  Jersey,  189 

Newmarket,  49,  I  <  6,  201,  226,  239, 

241,  257,  278-9 
Newport,  Essex,  188 
Newport,  Salop,  41 
New  Spring  Garden,  198 
New  Street,  Worcester,  48 
New  York,  189 
Nore,  The,  2ii 
North  Cheriton,  93 
Northleach,  79  n. 
Nottingham,  13 


Old  Exchange,  197 
Old  Winchester,  98 
Ombersley,  51 
Over-Compton,  87  i. 
Oxford,  II,  14  sqq,^  85,  210 


Packington,  78 

"  Pageant  "  Tavern    145  n. 

Palais  Royal,  207 

Pall  Mall,  281 

Paris,  27,  84,  108  n.,  1 15- 116 

"  Paradise,"  198 

Pendennis  Castle,  \\\ 

Peronne,  116 

Perry  Wood,  Worcester,  47 

Perth,  40,  41,  43-4 

Pilsdon,  87  n.,  91 

Pitchcroft,  Worcestt  r,  46 

Poissy,  33 

Poleroon,  189 

"  Pomme  d'Or,"  Ghent,  38 

Pontoise,  120 

Poole,  105,  210 

Portsmouth,  174 

Portugal,  172-4 

Powick,  46 

Powick  Bridge,  46 

Portsmouth,  1 73 

Preston,  26 

Primrose  Hill,  222 

"Prince "in the  "San,"  198 


3i8  CHARLES   II   AND   HIS  COURT 


INDEX 


319 


Pump  Court,  Temple,  191 
Pyrenees,  133 


"Queen^s  Arms,"  Charmouth,  86, 
88-9 


Reading,  14 

Redcliffe  Gate,  Bristol,  79 

Redhill,  46 

Reigate,  23 

Renalls,  231 

"Restoration"  Tavern,  145  n. 

Richmond,  80 

River  Gambo,  253 

Rochester,  142 

Rotterdam,  140 

Rouen,  37,  105,  107,  132 

Roundhill,  Kinver,  51 

Roundham  Ferry,  Bristol,  79 

Royston,  155 


St.  Andrews,  39 

St.  Germains,  22,  25,  32,  34 

St.  Heliers,  19 

St.  James*  Park,  253 

St.  John's,  Clerkenwell,  242 

St.  Lo,  36 

St  Malo,  19,  132 

St.  Martin's  Gate,  Worcester,  48 

St.  Mary's,  Oxford,  15 

St.  Mary's,  Scilly  Isles,  19 

St.  Paul's  School,  144 

Salisbury,  93  sqq,^  154 

Sandford-Orcas,  93 

San  Sebastian,  133 

Schevening,  139 

Scilly  Isles,  18-9 

Severn,  46,  57-9        ^  ,    , 

Sheldonian  Theatre,  Oxford,  237 

Sherbum,  83 

Shifnal,  64 

Shoreham,  104-5 

Shrewsbury,  57-9 

Sidbury  Gate,  Worcester,  46 

Snitterfield,  78  n. 

Southwark,  142 

Spa,  116 

Spain,  31 »  1 33 

Spring  Coppice,  54 

Spring  Gardens,  26,  196-7 


Stanstead,  100 

Stirling,  41 

Stonehenge,  95 

Stoughton,  46 

Stourbridge,  51 

Stour  River,  51 

Stow-on-the-Wold,  79  n. 

Stratford-on-Avon,  77-8 

Strathbogie,  39 

Sudbury  Gate,  Worcester,  46 

"  Sun,"  Chipping  Campden,  79  n. 

"  Sun,"  Lou  vain,  126 

Sweden,  206 


Tangier,  162,  188,  203,  219 

Taunton,  235 

Teammouth,  46 

Thorn  Farm,  Inkberrow,  77 

'*  Three  Mariners  "  Tavern,  302 

"Three  Spanish  Gypsies,"  157 

Titchfield,  100 

Tithing,  Worcester,  48 

Tong,  66 

Tong-Castle,  52 

Torbay,  277 
Tottenham-Court,  198 

Toulouse,  133 
Town-ditch,  Worcester,  48 

Trent,  83-4,  92  m- 
Trevuren,  132 
Trippneuve,  37 
"Triumph"  Tavern,  145  n. 
Truro,  17-8 
"Tub"  Tavern,  282 
Tunbridge  Wells,  184-5,  208 
Tyburn,  231 


U 

Upton-on-Severn,  46 
Ury  River,  39 


Vauxhall,  196-7,  302 
Vilvord,  126 
Virginia,  226 

W 

Wales,  59 

Walpole  House,  Chiswick,  275 

Warder  within  Ludgate,  222  n. 


Warnford,  98 
Wamington  Bridge,  45 

Wells,  17 
Westbourne,  97 
Whitehall,  144,  196 
Whiteladies,  51-2 
Wight,  Isle  of,  105-6 
Wiltshire,  235 
Wimbome  St.  Giles,  210 
Wincanton,  93 
Winchester  Palace,  241 
Windsor,  232 
Wolverhampton,  51 
Womboume,  51,  214 
Woodhouselee,  44 
Woodstock,  186,  269 


Worcester,  45,  sqq. 
Worcester  House,  i8o 
Wordsley  Church,  51 
Wrottesley  Woods,  5 1 
Wuestwezel,  130 
Wychwood  Forest,  214 


Yarmouth,  26 
York  House,  214 


Zaragoza,  133 
Zevenbergen,  131 


LITERATURE 


"Absalom  and  Achithophel,"  221, 

239 
"  Absent  from  thee  I  languish  still," 

270-1 
Addison  in  the  Guardian^  180 
Airv,  Dr.,  229 
"  Allusion  to  Horace,"  270 
Antonio  in  »*  Venice  Preserved,"  151 


B 


Bate's  "  Elenchus  Motuum,"  77  n. 
Behn,  Mrs.  Aphra,  150 
"Bellamira,  or  The  Mistress,"  270 
Ben  Jonson's  **  Silent  Woman,"  I53n. 
Bishop    Earle's    "  Microcosmograp- 

hie,"  7 
Buckingham,  Duke  of.  See  Persons. 
Burnet,  Gilbert.    See  Persons. 
Burton's  "  Anatomy  of  Melancholy," 

14-5,  169 
Butler,    iSamuel,    153,   167-8,    200, 

261-3 


"  Cavalier  and  Puritan,"  233  n. 
Ch(;sterton,  Mr.,  286-7 
Clarendon,  Earl  of.    See  Persons. 
Cibber,  CoUey,  148  n. 
Cowley,  Abraham,  14 1,  153 
Crowne,  dramatist,  149  n. 
**  Cydaria,"  280 


D 


Defoe,  Daniel,  185  n. 

Dorset,  Earl  of.     See '. 

Dryden,  John,  23,  15 
and  Achithophel, 
"Albion  and  Al 
"  An  Evening's 
"  Annus  Mirabilis, 
trea  Redux,  132  n., 
logue  to  Sir  Fopling 
2  ;  Essay  on  Drama 

Dryden,    John,    his 
peror,"     280 ;      " 
238;  "Medal,"  151 
Love,"   280 ;   "  Sei 
252  ;      "  Threnodij 
153;  "  Tyrannic  L< 


,190 

^'ersons. 

0 ;   "  Absalom 

"  221,  239; 
janius,"    238  ; 

Love,"  302 ; 
"  189;  "As- 
147  n.  ;  "  Epi- 

Flutter,"30i- 
tic  Poetry,  271 
"  Indian  Em- 
MacFlecknoe," 

238  ;  "  Secret 
:ular  Masque," 
Augustalis," 
ive,"  280,  etc. 


Earle,  Dr.    ^S**;^  Persons. 

"  Elenchus  Motuum,'  77 

"  Elephant  in  the  Modu,"  168 

Etheredge,    Sir    George,   254,   265, 

279»  301-3 
Evelyn,  Mr.    See  Peilsons. 


r 


"Feigned  Courtezans,"  150 
"Florimel,"28o 


I 


320 


CHARLES  II  AND  HIS  COURT 


Gramont,  Comte  de.    See  Persons. 
Guarini,  126  n. 


H 


Herrick's    **  Pastoral    on    birth    of 

Prince  Charles,"  i 
"History  of  the  Great  Rebellion," 

204 
"  Hudibras,"  151 


"  I  pass  all  my  time  in  a  shady  old 
grove,"  15 1-2,  211 


"John  Inglesant,"  14-15 

K 
"King  in  Exile,"  49  n. 

L 

"Love  still  has  something  of  the 
Sea,"  269 

M 

Marvell,  Andrew,  140  n.,  147  n., 
151,  189,  217-20 ;  his  King's 
speech,  217-20;  his  "Historical 
Poem,"  140  n.,  147  n. ;  his  "  Re- 
hearsal Transposed,"  151 

"Microcosmographie,"  7  n. 

Moliere,  J.  B.  P.  de,  150 

**  Mulberry  Garden,"  269 

Mulgrave,  Earl  of.    See  Persons. 

N 

Newcastle,   Duchess    and   Duke  of. 

See  Persons. 
"No  Puede  Ser,"  149  n. 
"  Not,  Celia,  that  I  juster  am,"    270 


"  Og,"  238 

"  On  Nothing,"  270 


*•  Pastoral  upon  the  Birth  of  Prince 
Charles,"  i 


"  Pastor  Fido,"  126 

Pepys'    "Diary."       Cf,    Pepys    in 

Persons. 
"  Peveril  of  the  Peak,"  221 
"  Phillis  is  my  only  Joy,"  269 
"  Phillis,  without  Frown  or  Smile," 

269 
Poems  on  the  Birth  of  Prince  Charles, 

2 
"  Pseudodoxia  Epidemica,"  169 


INDEX 


MISCELLANEOUS 


321 


"  Rehearsal,"  262 

"Religio  Medici,"  169 

Rochester,  Earl  of,  265,  270-1.   And 

see  Persons. 
Roscommon,  Earl  of,  271 
"  Rupert,  Prince  Palatine,"  49  n. 


Scott,  Miss  Eva,  49  n. 

Sedley,  Sir  Charles,  253-5,  264,  269 

70 
Shadwell,  238,  282;  his  "Medal  of 

John  Bayes,"  238 
Shakespeare,  William,  278 
"  She  would  if  she  could,"  303 
Shirley,  dramatist,  151 
"Sidrophel,"  169 
"  Sir  Courtly  Nice,"  149  n. 
"  Sir  Fopling  Flutter,"  301-2 
"  Sir  Positive  At- All,"  272 
Sir  Robert  Howard,  271 
Swift's  "  Voyage  to  Laputa,"  168 
Swinburne,  285 


Temple,  Sir  William.    See  Persons. 

Tennyson,  286 

"  To  all  you  Ladies  now  on  Land," 

271 
"  Tom  Otter,"  153 
*  *  Travels  of  the  King,"  149  n. 


"  Vulgar  Errors,"  169 
W 

Waller,  Edmund,  147-8,  153,  182, 
187,  189,  203 ;  his  "  Last  Instruc- 
tions to  a  Painter,"  189 

Wycherley,  dramatist,  194,  201-2, 
275  ;  his  "  Country  Wife,"  194 


"Abhorrers,"235 

Act  of  Indemnity,  161 

Advertisements,  153-4  '»  Appendix 

Antbassadors,  206 

Animonial  Cup,  246 

Artibian  Sheep,  253 

Army,  162-3 

Assassination  Plot,  238 

Astrology,  169 

Aurum  PotabUe,  252 


B 


Balearian  Crane,  253 

Baiebones  Parliament,  225 

Basset,  257,  and  303 

Battledore  and  Shuttlecock,  202,  303 

Bellman,  195 

Birmingham  Protestants,  225  n. 

Black  Box,  234 

Bog-trotters,  225 

Bowls,  257-9 

Bransle,  258 


Cabal,  206,  215,  225 
Carduus-posset,  80 
Cavalier  Parliament,  162,  167 
Chapel  Services,  257 
Chedreux,  199 
Choughs,  253 
Cinchona,  233  n. 
Clocks  and  Watches,  297-8 
Closure  of  Exchequer,  240  n. 
CocJc-fighting,  258-9 
Colfee,  298-300 
"  Confidents,"  199 
Convention  Parliament,  162 
Country  Dances,  258 
Country  Party,  217 
Country  Rejoicings  at  the   Restora- 
tion, 145-6 
Court  Bali,  258 
Covenanters,  25,  225 
Crambo,  202,  303 
"  Cuckolds  all  arow,"  258 


(( 


Declaration  of  Breda,  135 

"  Died  Abner  as  a  fool  dieth  ? " 

Disguises,  188 


222 


Dissenters,  167 

Dissolution  of  the  Cabal,  215 

Distresses  of  English  it  Coin,  122-3  » 

at  Paris,  113 
Dotterel-hunting,  259 
Dragoons,  173 
Dress,  198-9,  301-2 
Drury  Lane  Theatre,  280 
Dukeof  York's  Regiment,  163 
"  Duke's  House,"  28:! 
Duke's  Theatre,  254-5 


£ 


Earl  of  Oxford's  Cav£  Iry,  163 
Elixir  vitae,  252 
Embassies,  212-14 
Engagers,  25,  26 
Exclusion  Debate,  225 


F 


Factions  among  Engl  sh  in  Paris,  114 
Farneley  Wood  Rising,   Yorkshire, 

162 
"  Faure,"  199 
"Favourites,"  199 
Festivities  at  French  Court,  24 
Fifth- Monarchy  Men,  162 
First  Exclusion  Bill,  229-30 
First  Whig  Parliament,  229 
First  Whig  Parliamert  dissolved,  229 
Fives  (the  game),  84 
Foire  de  St.  Germain,  184 
"  Fop-Corner,"  255 
"  Fore-Top,"  199 
"  Four  Days'  Battle,'   189 
Fox-hunting,  259 
French    and  Spanish   Ambassadors* 

frav   212 
"  French  Brawl,"  25^ 
Fronde,  27 
Furniture,  202 


"  Gazette  Burlesque, "  123 

General  Monk's  Reginent,  163 

Gloves,  199 

Golf,  155 

Great  Fire,  190-1  ;  destruction  caused 

by,  193 

Green  Ribbon  Club,  ;  122-4 
Grief  of  Cavaiiers,  16^9 . .  27-8 
Groom-Porter,  257 
Guinea  Goats,  253 


322 


CHARLES   II   AND   HIS   COURT 


INDEX 


323 


H 


Habeas  Corpus  Act,  299-300 
Hair-dyeing,  199 
Hawking,  1 3 1-2,  etc. 
"Heart-Breakers,"  199 
Highlanders  in  Bruges,  126 
Houses  and  Furniture,  202 
Hunting,  132,  259,  etc. 


Imitation  of  French  Fashions,  200 
Indemnity,  Act  of,  161 
Indifference  at  Court,  167 
Indoor  Amusements,  202  and  302-$ 
«*  Insurrection  Plot,"  238 
"  Irish,"  225 


Jesuits  of  Rue  St.  Antoine,  iiS  n. 
Jesuits'  powder,  or  bark,  233,  233  n., 
and  246 


Kentish  Foot  Regiment,  141 
"King's  Drops,"  245 
"King's  Evil,"  71  and  171-2 
"King's  Head  Club,"  223 
King's  Own  Life  Guards,  142 
King's  Own  Regiment,  163 
King's  Theatre,  280 


"London  "(Ship),  140 

"  Long  Paume  "  (a  game),  128 

Louvrians'  Faction,  1 14 


M 

"Mam's  Luck,"  211 
Marriage  Negotiations,  172  sq. 
Maundy  Money,  17 1  n. 
Meals,  196 

"  Meal-Tub  Plot,"  227 
"  Mercurius  Politicus,"  124 
Mompesson's  drummer,  172 
Monk's  Regiment,  163 
Moorish  Embassy,  212-4 

Muf&,  199 

Muscovite  Embassy,  213-4 


N 


«  Naseby"  (ship),  138  n. 
Naval  supremacy  of  England,  209 
New  Privy  Council  Scheme,  229 
Noises  of  London,  194-5 
Non-Resisting  Bill,  217 


O 


Opera,  258 

Ostend  privateer,  106 

Ostriches   and    lions    given    to    the 

King,  214 
Outdoor  Amusements,  198 
Oxford  Parliament,  214 


Pageants    in    London    on    Queen's 

arrival,  179 
Palais  Royal  Faction,  118 
Pail-Mall,  148,  15s,  253,  297 
Parliament  spy  at  Beauvais,  37 
Peace  with  Holland,  215 
Periwigs,  199 

Persian  fashions  in  dress,  198 
"Petitioners,"  225,  235 
"Petits   Jeux"    at    French    Court, 

IIO-III 

Plague,  190,  194 

Political  Parties  in  Scotland,  25 

Pope-burnings,  224,  234 

Popish  Plot  217,  221  sgq, 

'Prentices,  197 

Presbyterian  Plot,  227 

Protestant  Flail,  224 

"  Proud  Black  Eagle  "  (ship),  19 

"Public  Intelligencer,"  1 71-2 

Punchinello,  198 

Puritanism  destroyed,  162 

Puritanism,  spirit  of,  203 


Quakers,  165-6 

Queen's  Cabinet,  Whitehall,  25-7 

Querelle  d'Allemand,  209 

Quinine,  233  n. 

Quinkinna,  233  n. 


Raree-shows,  236 
Regicides,  160 


Regimental  dress,  1669..  163 
Restoration  Ceremonies,  140-6 
Restoration  Procession,  143 
Revolution  in  Holland,  215 
"Royal Charles"  (ship),  139  and  189 


n. 


Royalist  Factions  in  the  West,  1 7 
Royalists  in  Oxford,  1642-6..  14,  15 
Royal  Society,  167-8 
"Ruelle,"i83n. 
Rye  House  Plot,  239 


Scents,  200-1 

Science,  167  j^. 

"Sealed  Knot,'*  122 

Sealing-wax,  201 

Second  Dutch  War,  189-90 

Second  Whig  Parliament,  234-6 

Secret  Treaty  of  Dover,  206,  212 

Sects,  164-6 

Sedan-chairs,  195,  300-1 

Sham  Treaty  of  Dover,  206 

Shops,  197 

"Side-glassing,"  255-6 

Sign-boards,  195,  301 

"  Sir  Edmund  Berry  Godfrey's  Head  " 

a  sign,  222  n. 
Snowballing,  273 
Snaff,  201 

St£ig  Hunting  in  Holland,  131 
Star  visible  at  Prince  Charles'  birth,  2 
States- General    (Deputies    visit    the 

King),  136 
Stockings,  200 
Street-cries,  196 
Stuart  fondness  for  dogs,  154 
Superstitions,  17 1-2 
"  Swiftsure  "  (ship),  140 
'*  Swordsmen  "  faction,  115 


"  Tantivys,"  225 

Taverns,  195 

Tea,  187-8,  and  298 

Temple  Fire,  191-3 

Tennis,  134,  148,  i5.;-259,  297 

Test  Act,  215,  275 

Theatre,  254 

Third  Dutch  War,  206,  214-5 

Third  Whig  Parliament,  236-7 

"  Tories,"  225 

Tory  Club,  222  n. 

Touching  for  the  Evil,  171 

"  Trainias  "  or  sledg<s,  273 

Travelling  in  Londor ,  197 

Travelling  in  Spain,  133 

Treaty  of  Breda,  37 

"Trembleuss,"  165 

Trials  for  the  Plot,  217 

Triple  Alliance,  206 

"True  Blues,"  225  r. 


W 


Waterfowl,  253 

Week  in  a  Courtier's  Life,  A,  252-9 

Welsh  Nurse  for  the  Prince,  3 

Whig  Opposition  enc  s,  239 

Whigs,  225  s^g. 

Whigs'  election  triumph,  229 

"Wild  Irish,"  225 

Witches,  169 

Writing-paper,  201 


«  Yorkists,"  225 


PRINTED  BY 

WILUAM    CLOW  as  AND  SONS,  LIMITED, 

LONDON   AND  BECCLES. 


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